


Tidal Change

by Blue_Velvet_Dark



Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: Alternate Universe, Ancient Egyptian Literature & Mythology, Atlantis, Drowning, Eventual Smut, F/M, Greek Mythology - Freeform, Inaccurate Ancient Greek Religion & Lore, Light Bondage, Light Dom/sub, Magic, Minor Neville Longbottom/Luna Lovegood, Nereids (Ancient Greek Religion & Lore), Original Character(s), POV Neville Longbottom, Post-Hogwarts, Professor Neville Longbottom, Romance, Temporary Character Death, Underwater
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-06-02
Updated: 2021-02-05
Packaged: 2021-03-03 20:54:01
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 12
Words: 26,644
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/24501919
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Blue_Velvet_Dark/pseuds/Blue_Velvet_Dark
Summary: It was supposed to be a normal year for Professor Longbottom and the new Hogwarts matron. There was supposed to be peace. But when everyone wakes up to find that no one can use magic anymore, things become dire. The Magical World is in chaos.There's a choice to be made: they have to face what she is and fight for the people they care about, or watch everything they love fade away.
Relationships: Neville Longbottom/Original Female Character(s)
Comments: 6
Kudos: 17
Collections: Harry Potter OC Fanfiction





	1. The New Matron

The halls of Hogwarts were always too quiet once the students had gone home for the summer break, Neville found. It was eerie—the place so vibrant and full of activity during his formative years felt so cold and even more expansive without classes to rush to or studying to be done. But he supposed that it was something he would come to get used to more as the years ticked by. It was certainly more familiar now than it was his first year as Herbology professor.

However, today was a bit of a special day and a little bit of life was brought back, at least in the Great Hall. They were throwing a retirement party for Madam Pomfrey, who had finally decided that this would be her final year. It was bittersweet, but most of all, Neville was happy to see the long-time matron of Hogwarts smile more than he had ever seen. She was, of course, always less stern around professors than students, but today, she looked like a whole new witch.

There _was_ something bothering Neville though.

Poppy's replacement was there to celebrate with them after apparently ending her final shift at St. Mungo's. She was a young Healer, still in the lime robes Neville was so familiar with, and he could just barely remember her face. They hadn't spoken to each other just yet, the party only now getting under way, so he hadn't even had the chance to ask her name. Was she in his year? He definitely didn't remember her being in Gryffindor, but he still couldn't place her.

"Miss Cunningham was a year below you, in Hufflepuff. A witch with a knack for healing spells from the very beginning."

Neville jumped at Minerva's voice. He didn't even hear her approach, and he wondered for a second how she seemed to read his mind. Then he realized that he had been staring at the healer for ages now, his face contorted as he tried to remember her. He had a sneaking suspicion that Minerva was extremely used to that expression.

Still, the new information didn't place her.

"What's her first name? I know I know her, but I can't remember..."

"Kyle. You probably remember her most from the wanted posters. She was very much wanted by the snatchers. Gave them a lot of trouble before she got caught herself."

That triggered the memories for him. Kyle Cunningham, captured just days before the battle. Just one in a long list of people he didn't think would make it out alive. While he was unsure what happened after Muggleborns and other wanted people were captured, he was sure it wasn't good. He remembered, also, that she was always hanging around the Black Lake during her years at school. In fact, he had asked her once if she had made friends with the squid, but her response was lost to time.

He turned to ask Minerva another question but only caught the tail end of her robes fluttering by as she went to join the party. Neville assumed it was for the best and made toward the table to grab a bite to eat—he could ask Kyle herself, certain he'd see her around.

However, he wouldn't see her around quite as soon as he thought. After the party, he found himself a little too drunk to want to do much talking and retired to his bed to get plenty of rest before he had to start planning for next year. Then, he was kept busy with the general cleaning up of the greenhouses in preparation for the new school year.

By the point in which he had plenty of free time, he had forgotten all about what he wanted to ask his new co-worker, instead spending ample time visiting friends and family during the day and his evenings behind books and scrolls.

The summer flew by, and he was a little shaken when he woke one morning and realized that school would begin in a few days. He had paced himself rather well this year, and the only thing he had left to prepare was his nerves. Something about the first days was tough for him, but he comforted himself in the knowledge that all would smooth out shortly.

And so it came to be that Neville, giving his eyes a break from the tome he was reading (" _It's very interesting, all about the history of magical Mongolian agriculture. My favorite bit..._ "), decided to do some light care for the plants he kept in his office and surrounding his desk. He had to admit, it did look a little like a jungle in there, but that was kind of the point.

Far in the back of his office where students shouldn't be roaming about, he kept the plants that needed a close watch on as he nursed them back to health. There, he was tending to a lovely little herb that was struggling to take root—a trait common to this stubborn species. He was bent over it, pruning off the dying leaves and re-covering it's upward-growing roots. He stood up and leaned back, stretching out his arms to get rid of the stiffness in his upper body.

"Ow! Fuck!" he shouted, pulling his arm in close to his body. Blood flowed freely from the little puncture marks on his forearm, and he glanced back to the hissing Cobralily that had finally, after all these years, managed to bite him.

Quickly, he came around to his desk, searching in all the drawers and then over to the cabinets across the room. He continued to curse as he failed to find the vial he needed, but he did manage to find a clean bandage to hold against the bite to help with the blood dripping all over his floor. After a few moments, he gave up on finding a potion of his own and decided to head to the hospital wing, hoping Miss Cunningham would have something on hand. If not... well, best not to think about it.

Crossing the grounds started off easy but by the time he reached the castle doors, he was beginning to feel feverish and slow. His body felt heavy and he could feel the spreading venom in his veins.

It felt like an eternity before he arrived at the hospital wing, but he still felt well enough to walk through. Standing over a bubbling cauldron, hand on her hip, was Kyle. She had traded in her lime green robes for a long white dress, high-necked like Madame Pomfrey but significantly more modern. Her long, chestnut hair was pulled up high, and her apron was dirty with what was probably the ingredients for the potion she was brewing. She didn't even take notice of Neville until he was nearly to her.

"Oh, hello Profe-- Oh, you do _not_ look well. What's going on?"

Her initial smile faded into a look of concern as she came around from her cauldron and instructed him to sit on the cot nearest to him. He took a seat and uncovered his arm.

"I wasn't paying attention to where I was, got bit by a Cobralily. I thought I had a potion on hand, but I guess I forgot it," he said, very to the point as Kyle took his arm and turned it to get a better look.

He realised at this point that she was almost comically short, but the amusement was cut short when she touched a very sore part of his arm near the bite and he made a strangled noise.

"Sorry, just trying to get a good look."

She pulled her wand out from the tie on her apron and gave it a wave without looking away from his arm. The doors to the huge curio cabinet filled with potions and jars swung open, and a potion jetted out towards her. She let go of his arm to catch it, and then handed it to him.

"Drink this. Be prepared, it tastes like hell."

While he unstoppered the vial, she gave another wave of her wand, and a small jar zipped to her hand. The smell of the potion hit him first—awful, pungent, kind of rotten smelling. But he didn't really have a choice in the matter, so he tossed it back and swallowed the viscous drug, fighting off the urge to gag.

Kyle set the jar on the little side table and took his arm carefully again. While he was still trying to get past the disgusting flavor in his mouth, she very delicately spread a salve on the bite, and he immediately felt it begin to cool the burning wound as it healed.

"Just sit here for a bit. You should be fine, but some people get very dizzy from the antivenom." She gave him a pat on his shoulder, and he nodded, swinging his legs up on the cot and resting his back against the pillow and wall behind him. She returned to her cauldron, touching the bubbling surface with her wand until a puff of purple smoke rose out.

"What are you brewing? I don't know many potions that color."

To be fair, Neville still wasn't well versed in potions, so he couldn't actually attest to how many purple potions there were. His greatest fear was the potions master, after all.

Kyle huffed.

"Something Madam Pomfrey should have kept on hand but didn't. We have all these very curious students coming into adulthood, and she would not prepare anything to soothe the minds of the more precocious young women attending here."

He furrowed his brow as he thought it over. "Precocious young... Oh. _Oh_. Does that kind of thing happen at Hogwarts?"

"Wizards are certainly more sexually conservative than Muggles, but to be very, very clear— _that_ kind of thing happens all the time."

She brought out a box full of tiny, empty vials and began to fill them one-by-one while the cauldron still bubbled.

"Perhaps it's because I was raised by a very—shall we say liberated?—Muggle mother, but I don't see a point in not supplying girls with the tools they need to take charge of their own sexuality. I assure you that you haven't seen what happens when a student finds herself pregnant. It's all very hush-hush. The student is instructed not to tell anyone. It's a source of shame and absolutely unnecessary. Oh, sorry, I'm rambling."

"No, it's fine. Bit of a shock, I guess. I thought things were so wholesome here." He couldn't help but laugh a bit at it, partially at his own naivety. It had never even crossed his mind that students were shacking up as often as Kyle was insinuating. Obviously, there were rumors, but no one had ever seriously mentioned it to him. "Why didn't Poppy keep any?"

"Moral values, I would guess. It's not a difficult or costly potion to brew, and you only need a tiny bit to be effective." She was still slowly filling each tiny bottle. About twenty of them now sat on the table to her side. Kyle sighed and put her hands on her hips. "Honestly, Poppy was an amazing healer, but she left me with nothing. I've been brewing and organizing and collecting for the whole summer trying to get this place as prepared as possible for anything that might happen. Maybe I'm overpreparing, even, but I'd rather have too much than not enough."

Neville nodded and looked at his arm. The bite was no more than faint little marks now, barely distinguishable from freckles. He was starting to feel better, too. He wasn't as feverish, and he could feel the greasy feeling of the venom dissolving away.

Neville watched as she finished filling all of the vials, then waved them up to the top shelf of that overstuffed curio cabinet. When they were all safe and sound on the shelf, she started to clean out the cauldron and put it away.

Soon after, Kyle returned to his side. She put one hand on his forehead and took a look at his arm again.

"Feel dizzy?"

"Not at all."

"Perfect. I'd say you're all good to go." She smiled brightly and gave him a pat on the knee. "But be very careful around that damned cobralily. It takes two days to brew that antivenom, and I think that was the only vial I have."

Neville hopped off the cot, stretching out his arm again to make sure there was no lingering pain.

"I'm pretty good about not being bit, I was just not paying attention today. I can bring you the ingredients for more, though. Just in case."

"Sounds like a plan to me," she said with a nod. "Whatever you have in store for it, I would appreciate it. I'm sure Slughorn will have anything you don't have. Surely he can loan me a bit, too. But for right now, I am _so_ done with brewing. I'm going to take the next couple days to rest. Doing potions all day every day is rough on the back and shoulders."

She wrapped her arms around herself to stretch, and the little gap the motion created in the neckline of her dress revealed just the top of a deep purple scar. He tried not to look.

"Thanks for taking care of me. I thought I was going to have to go to St. Mungo's, and I'm just not into that idea."

"Luckily, I should be able to handle most things that happen on these grounds. Unless there are more cursed necklaces, feel free to drop by for anything."

She nodded, and Neville said his goodbye before strolling out back to the grounds, still cradling and looking at his arm.

He cursed himself once he got back to his office. He had forgotten to ask his question that he had thought about months ago.


	2. An Excuse to Visit

Getting through the first few weeks without injury or tears (for students or Neville) was something Neville didn’t even know was possible. Yet, there he was, three weeks in and everyone had all their limbs and sanities intact. His students were even doing well with the coursework itself. He was almost prepared to admit that he wasn’t half-bad at this whole teaching thing.

Minerva had even congratulated him on how many students he had pulled in for NEWT-level courses. It was an unusual number, and Neville thought he knew why, but… It wasn’t really something he liked to put on his own shoulders, so he ignored it to the best of his ability. He could see the questions rolling around in the student’s minds, but thus far, none had come forward to ask them. Maybe it was still too soon. Maybe the scars looked too fresh.

The only complaint he had regarding this whole professor-slash-head-of-house gig was that he was required to roam the halls at night, looking for trouble makers. Luckily, it wasn’t all night, but still, he was definitely feeling the exhaustion from last night still kicking around. He nearly fell asleep in the bath, but managed to wake himself up enough to put on a pair of pajama pants and sit down at his desk.

The stack of parchments in front of him was… a lot. More than he could get through tonight, so he almost decided to just go to bed. Instead, he groaned and took the top assignment off the stack, determined to at least get a couple done before he fell asleep.

He was halfway through the first essay, eyes just beginning to droop, when a quick series of raps at his door startled him back awake.

“Who on earth…” he mumbled, peeling himself off of his chair and heading to the door.

He opened it to the sight of Kyle, dressed simply in a long, pale yellow nightgown, her hair braided and tossed over her shoulder. That dark scar twisted around her neck, splaying out and tucking into her gown.

“Hello, Neville. Ready for bed, I see?” she said, eyebrows raised. Neville was suddenly aware that he had not put on a shirt after his bath.

“Oh, sorry!” he said, grabbing a shirt he had hanging on a chair nearby. He threw it on hastily, then took it off and put it on _not_ inside out this time. When he was decent, he came back to the door where Kyle had waited patiently. “What, uh, what can I do for you?”

“I know it’s late and you’re probably about to head to bed. I had to tend to a student who fell down the stairs to his dorm room, so I just got a chance to come out.” She shifted her weight to one leg and looked past him at all the plants around his office, some hanging, some sitting in pots. “I’m in need of some shrivelfig leaves. Do you have any I can take?”

“Well, most of them have already lost their leaves. It happens so early in the year,” Neville said, thinking about what plants were available. “I had the second years collect the fruits the first week…”

“That’s alright. I can probably get some from—”

“Oh! I do have one that I think still has a good number out in greenhouse seven!” Neville nearly shouted at her, glad to have that one reserved bush left. Without waiting on her to respond, he found and slid on his shoes and exited his office, shutting the door behind him and Kyle.

“After you, Professor,” she said, stepping to the side. It was quite dark, so Neville illuminated the tip of his wand. He may have known where every rock and root was, but he didn’t want her to trip out here.

He led her confidently to greenhouse seven, taking just a moment to unlock the doors, and let her inside. This greenhouse had the tendency to be hotter and more humid than the others, and it still retained a lot of the heat from the afternoon sun.

“Kind of in the back,” Neville said, letting his wand light up a little bit brighter so that they could both see the still-mostly-green bush sitting over towards the right wall. He walked past her, grabbing a wicker basket to hold the leaves, then back towards the plant.

“Hey, Neville, what’s this one?”

He turned back around to find her. He couldn’t quite see what he was looking at, so he maneuvered to her side. She was crouched down, looking at a delicate little plant in a bright green pot, it’s flowers curled up as if they were asleep—particularly because they were.

“Oh, just a little project of mine. They’re notoriously hard to grow but pretty valuable. The flowers are used in love potions, mostly, but on their own it’s a powerful aphrodisiac,” he said, kneeling down next to her. “And, they have the added benefit of… well, being pretty.”

He reached out to touch one of the thin stems, and immediately the multicolored flowers unfurled, glowing softly.

Kyle watched quietly as the flowers brightened momentarily, then started to dim, before curling back up and going back to sleep.

“Does it work well? As an aphrodisiac?”

Neville was a little startled by the question for a second, and stood up to give himself a moment to compose himself.

“Er, I’ve never… I’ve been told it’s very powerful, but I’m not… personally familiar.”

Kyle stood, a hand on a nearby shelf to balance herself. “Well, if you ever find out, let me know,” she said, and Neville thought he caught a wink, but he couldn’t be sure in the shadows. Before he even had time to blush, she turned and headed towards the shrivelfigs, and he followed after taking a moment to compose himself.

He set the basket on the ground between them, and they went to work, carefully picking off the leaves that were still good to use. Some of them were past their prime, so he went ahead and plucked them off and set them on the nearby table. It was simple, quick work. In no time, they had the basket packed full and the bush nearly bare, ready to rest and bloom again the following spring.

“I appreciate your help, and I’m sorry for coming out so late. Promise I’ll try to catch you during daylight next time,” Kyle said once they had left the greenhouse and were greeted with a brisk wind, refreshing after being in the humidity.

“It’s not a problem. I’m just glad we got to it before all the leaves fell off,” he replied, pulling on the hem of his shirt. He was about to wish her goodnight, but then he remembered that he had a dark, purple, spreading question.

“Before you leave, I did want to ask you something.”

“Go for it.”

Kyle tucked the basket under her arm and against her waist.

“Well, I know that – back when everything was horrible… ”

He noticed how she shifted uncomfortably but something spurred him to continue. He normally wasn’t so damned curious.

“Well, you were captured, right?”

Her dark expression remained but she nodded in response.

Neville cleared his throat and almost decided to back out of the question, but what good would that have done?

“What happened? How did you get out?”

She was looking very uneasy now, not immediately answering his questions. But finally, she sighed and looked towards his office door.

“Can we go inside? I’m not a fan of talking about it out in the open.”

She looked over her shoulder, as if she were scared of someone lurking around and eavesdropping.

Neville nodded, and they made their way back into his office, gently shutting the door behind them.

“Tea?” he offered, crossing the room and fetching the kettle. He filled it up and brought it to a quick boil while she took a seat across from his desk and made herself comfortable. Once he had the tea steeping, he slid a cup to her and took a seat with his own. He waited until she made the first move, not wanting to pressure her.

Finally, she looked up at him and gave him a little sigh.

“I ran from them for months. My parents were fine. They didn’t really have any use for bothering them once they knew I wasn’t there. So I hid anywhere I could. The good part about being Muggleborn is that it’s very easy to hide amongst the crowds. I don’t stick out as much as purebloods do.”

Neville nodded and took a sip of too-hot tea, scalding his tongue.

“Well, a couple days before the battle here, they finally caught me. I was out on a dock near Liverpool, and I was talking to a fisherman about possibly paying him to let me stay on his boat during his 3-week voyage. He took me aboard to show me around, but turns out he was a snatcher, and they had caught on to my habits. My fault for not varying things around.”

She stirred in a little sugar to her tea, taking a moment to breathe.

“I heard you gave them a pretty good fight, though,” Neville said, hoping to get her a little more comfortable.

“Tried to, at the very least. I was able to stun two of them before a third got me from behind. Nothing spectacular. I’m just… quicker than they gave me credit for.”

“Loads of people couldn’t even do that,” he suggested, taking her little smile as a win. “What did they do after?”

“Kind of a blur, if I’m honest.” She took a sip from her cup, then set it down on the desk. “They took my wand, first thing. Snapped it into pieces and tossed it overboard. They took me to… I don’t know where, but they had me chained by my neck and my leg. I could only move enough to stand or lay down. They mostly left me there alone, but every once in a while, someone might come in and… I was in pretty bad shape. They were talking about taking me somewhere else when they all rushed off. I assume they went to fight, called by Voldemort to Hogwarts. I didn’t know that at the time, though.

“I was so exhausted, and I hadn’t had anything to eat or drink in days. I figured I was going to die soon enough, so I just laid down, hoping that if I went to sleep, it would happen then.”

Neville had forgotten all about his tea by that point, leaning on the desk and listening intently. She didn’t seem to want to meet his gaze, so he looked down at his hands as she continued.

“I started to fall asleep, and I felt this… melting kind of sensation. It’s so hard to describe, but my whole body felt like water. And I just fell asleep. Don’t know how long I was sleeping, but when I woke up, dawn was breaking, and I was laying on the shore with a mouth full of seawater. I didn’t know where I was at first, but when I got up, I realized I was maybe thirty meters from my home. I have no idea how I even got there.”

Neville furrowed his brow. A mystery, indeed. “I’ve never heard of it happening, but maybe you apparated in your sleep?”

Kyle shook her head. “I hadn’t learned to apparate yet, what with being on the run during my 6th year. Maybe it’s possible, but I really don’t think it’s likely that I could have apparated without training while asleep.”

“Oh, good point,” he said, scratching at an itch on his neck. “I take it you were able to get home and recover, huh?”

“My mom saw me kind of hobbling towards the house, and she rushed out and brought me in. I got plenty of rest, and water, and excellent food. It took about a week before I could get up and move without so much pain, but it’s not like we could have gone to a hospital; we would have been heavily questioned. As far as we knew, Voldemort was still out there and the snatchers would find out I was missing soon. It wasn’t until May 7th that a friend bothered to send an owl to my parents, informing them of everything and asking if they knew where I was.” She gave her tea swirl in the cup, then took a long drink to fill the quiet. “Everything about that year was absolutely awful, and to top it off, I couldn’t even be here to help anyone. I felt so…”

“Helpless?” Neville suggested when she seemed to struggle to find the words.

She nodded, and finally looked up to meet his eyes. Neville was taken aback by just how much hurt that look could convey, and he shifted uncomfortably before continuing.

“We were all pretty helpless back then. You weren’t alone. How many others were in hiding, or couldn’t make it to Hogwarts that day? Not even just us kids, but look at all the people who were adults, who were powerful, who had no choice but to do what they had to to survive. It doesn’t—It’s not a commentary on you, but it did speak a lot about the situation we were all forced into.”

“Yeah, I know that it’s not something I should be hard on myself for. I just really wish things had been different, that I had had a way to do good, not just hide and get caught.”

Kyle finished her tea and stood up. Neville could see just how uncomfortable this entire conversation had made her and, even though his curiosity was sated, he felt particularly awful about it. Neville stood as well, moving to walk with her to the door.

“Listen, it wasn’t my place to ask. I’m sorry for making you feel uncomfortable, I should have known that this would bring up bad memories. It does for a lot of people. I wasn’t thinking right.”

He reached for the door knob and opened it for her.

“For what it’s worth, though, I think that you surviving does more good than what could have happened had you given up. I’m sure you helped tons of people at St. Mungo’s, and you’re helping Hogwarts now. Being absent from the battle doesn’t mean you didn’t participate.”

Kyle looked up at him and gave him just a bit of a smile. With her basket in one hand, she reached up with the other and placed it very gently on his cheek.

“You’re sweet, Nev. Have a good night.”

Neville shut the door after her, sighing loudly now that he was alone. His brain was full of emotions he couldn't quite place or shake. He took a look at the stack of essays on his desk, hung his head, and headed off to bed.


	3. The Common Cold

His head was going to explode, he was sure of it. After a long day of classes, during which he progressively started to feel worse and worse, he felt like actual, real, undeniable shit. But he couldn't just saunter off to get medicine before classes were finished, so he made it through the day—just barely—before he finally made his way towards the hospital wing yet again.

There was one student, a 5th year Ravenclaw boy named Thomas, laying on one of the beds with bandaged hands and neck, eating his dinner with a visiting student (Gryffindor, 5th year, named Elizabeth), and Neville walked quickly past them as he attempted to avoid eye contact. Kyle wasn't immediately visible, but her office door was slightly open so he came to the threshold and knocked.

"Come in," called Kyle, followed by the rustle of pages as she closed a book. Neville pushed the door open and popped his head in.

"Hi, Kyle. I believe I have come down with a cold. Don't suppose you have some Pepperup available?"

"I can hear it in your voice! Come in!" she said, quickly rising to her feet and adjusting the long skirts of her dress—white and blue today. She pointed to a soft, beige lounge in the corner of the office and he sat down, grasping his hands in his lap. Kyle left the office briefly, coming back with the familiar orangish potion. "It's gonna make your ears steam for a while, so if you want to sit in here, I can go grab dinner for you. I don't think I'd want to be sitting in the great hall, blowing smoke all over Trelawney. She might think it's a new prophecy."

Neville stifled a giggle as he took the vial from her and uncapped it. "You're right, better stay put." He downed the potion in one go and took off his shoes before getting comfortable on the lounge. In short order, his ears began to emit little puffs of steam, and his entire body got warm and his skin reddened. Seemingly pleased with this, Kyle gave him a pat on the arm before going back out of the office.

Neville watched her as she pulled up a chair beside the bed Thomas was on with a fresh roll of gauze. The boy put his hands out for her, and she slowly began unwrapping his bandages, talking to him and Elizabeth as she did so. She examined his hands very carefully, pressing on spots Neville couldn't quite see, but Thomas wasn't screaming in pain so he assumed things were going well. After a moment of looking at each hand, she stood back up, taking the apparently unneeded gauze, and dismissed both students from her care.

Neville felt all the mucus stuffed in his poor throbbing skull start to melt away as Kyle stepped out of his view. He could still see the bed begin to make itself and the dinner trays zipping out of sight. Very suddenly, he was much, much hotter than before, so he stood to remove his robes and his sweater, much cooler just in his undershirt.

"Comfortable?" Kyle asked as she came back into her office carrying a small armful of empty glass flasks.

"Moreso now, thanks," Neville said, putting his hands up to his ears to feel how much he was steaming. "Haven't had a cold in so long I forgot how miserable it is. And how weird Pepperup is."

"It would do this school some good to have better disinfecting practices, if you ask me." She dragged her chair over to a shelf, having to climb up to put the flasks away. She gathered her skirts so as not to trip, showing off the opaque white stockings underneath. It almost felt scandalous to look, Neville thought, but it wasn't like they were living in the 17th century.

As she hopped down, they dropped back into place, and she put her hands on her hips. "Bit warm, though? Would you like water?"

He nodded, and she set back off outside the office. He heard some clinking as she got a cup from the cupboards and then returned with two plates and a cup, wand out as she conjured water into it for him. It was cold and fantastically refreshing, and he thanked her as she also handed him a plate of roasted root vegetables, and bread and butter. She took a plate for herself over to her desk, and they began eating quietly.

"What part of St. Mungo's did you work in?" Neville blurted out after a few minutes of unbearable thought, turning his cup in his hands. Remembering the last time he asked her a question, though, he uncomfortably muttered, "Oh, but ignore that if it's too intrusive."

She finished chewing and set her fork down on the side of her plate before looking up at him, a soft look of recognition on her face. "Nev, I don't know what response you're hoping for... When we're new, we work all over the place to get a good feel. I worked mostly in the Magical Bugs Ward after I was acclimated, but—"

"But you were there, too," he finished quietly. He wasn't even sure what he wanted to hear. He had long ago given up on hiding that part of himself, but that didn't mean it was easy to handle knowing that she had, for at least a time, been around his parents in some capacity. He was stuck somewhere between relief that she already knew and he didn't have to explain, and disappointment that he couldn't compartmentalize these things in the real world quite as much as he wanted. His classmates, or in this case underclassmen, were grown up and had jobs, and it couldn't be denied anymore that people he grew up around would meet them in a setting he couldn't control.

"I can't imagine what it's like," Kyle flicked her wand toward the door, and it shut softly, giving them a little more privacy. "But I know that I would have been proud to have worked with them longer. Two unequalled heroes, the backbone of the resistance against evil. I know that doesn't really help, but... Can I tell you a story about the day I met them?"

Neville nodded, though conflicted on whether or not he actually wanted to hear. She moved over to him, taking a seat on the edge of the lounge beside him and took his hand in hers. She spoke softly to tell him her story.

"We went on a little walk around the ward, just to get them moving for a bit because it keeps their mood up, I think. It was quite warm, so I took off my cap, and your father saw the ribbon in my hair. I guess he really liked it because he would touch it every so often. After about the fifth time, I took my hair down and gave it to him, and he would feel it and let it kind of flop around as he handled it. Then, he turned to your mother, and he tried to put it in her hair. I don't think she was very happy about it, but what I remember so vividly is that he seemed very enamoured with her. He had this look in his eyes like... like he loved her a lot. I can only imagine how strong their relationship was for that to endure through everything."

Neville decided that the story was, actually, quite nice. At least, it was better than most of the "stories" he heard about his parents from healers who care for them. He gave her hand a little squeeze and smiled briefly.

"I'm glad they had someone like you to care for them," he said after a moment of reflection. "I am proud of them, you know. I just have so many feelings, it's hard to wrap my head around everything that goes through my head. But that's a lovely meeting with them, I think."

Feeling better, he let go of her hand and began to eat again.

She turned slightly, looking across the room at the short little bookshelf she had stuffed with books on healing and potions and the occasional Muggle novel. "Healing magic is a difficult subject, you know? We're still looking to improve on things, and find new ways to help people. It's not easy, but it's progressing. I'm hopeful that, someday soon, we can do more for people like your parents. Oh, for heaven's sake-" She reached over and brushed the crumbs off his shirt with a roll of her eyes.

"Sorry, bread's quite... crumbly," Neville said with a little grin, making sure to hold his plate to catch any further fallout. Kyle returned to her desk to eat her own dinner, and they made a bit of idle conversation about interesting things they'd seen doing their jobs. Neville recounted some harrowing tales about being an Auror, and Kyle told him about a vanishing sickness outbreak that led to the hospital adopting Muggle infrared goggles. By the time they were done chatting, they were well past dinner and it was getting late.

"Seems you're about done steaming up my office," she stated after a brief lookover of Neville. "As long as you're feeling well, I'd say you're quite cured."

"Thanks again. I'll try to stay away from sick students going forth." He stood up, and making an impulsive decision, came a little closer to her. "But I don't think Madam Pomfrey was quite as conversational as you."

"You're welcome here any time, Professor, ill or not."

As she spoke, he came closer still—but then stopped. It wasn't right. This was not what he was supposed to do as a Hogwarts professor, yet his hands twitched, wanting to just reach for her and see...

"Nev," Kyle whispered, one hand coming up to lightly touch the collar of his shirt. "If you're going to kiss me, do it before you get another cold."

That little bit of permission restored his confidence just enough for him to lean down and gently touch his lips to hers. She pressed back into him, both hands now gripping onto his collar as his hands found her waist. They shared that lingering kiss, then another for good measure, before he pulled away with a conflicted sigh.

"Tomorrow is Saturday," she reminded him as she let go. "Perhaps we should talk about stuff then. We'll have quite a bit of time."

Neville nodded, not sure he could string together a coherent sentence. That sounded like a good idea—talking. Maybe kissing again. He felt floaty.

His head buzzing, part with anxiety and part with elation, he wished her a goodnight and stepped out of her office, having to take several deep breaths before he could walk out back towards his office.


	4. The Crisis

Neville’s dreams were lovely. He dreamed of beautiful blue skies, calm breezes, white stockings against green grass, gentle touches… So when he awoke abruptly, it was a little jarring, but it didn’t diminish the cozy feeling left over. He wasn’t entirely sure why he had woken up—he was still quite tired. He plucked his wand off the table beside his bed and gave it a flick toward the curtains on his window. They didn’t budge.

He tried again, and then once more, but nothing happened. He couldn’t feel the flow of magic through his wand like he typically could, and everything in his room felt still and eerie. He pulled himself out of bed and threw the curtains open by hand. The sun hadn’t even risen yet. It must have still been early, but he could sense that something was wrong.

He dressed quickly, throwing on his robe and slipping on his shoes before he headed out to the castle. He had to force the door open, as even that seemed to be off, but he was immediately greeted with the sight of Minerva and most of the Professors, who seemed to be on their way out.

“Longbottom, we were just about to come wake you,” Minerva said, her voice unsteady. She held a letter in her hands, fiddling with it as she spoke. “The Minister is on his way. No one is sure what’s happening, but witches and wizards aren’t able to use magic anywhere on Earth as far as we can tell.”

She handed Neville the letter from the Minister and he quickly read over it. It detailed that he had to speak to the Muggle prime minister but would quickly be at Hogwarts. Magical non-humans seemed unaffected, and as such, they would be arriving by way of Ministry-employed Elves.

“Well, at least I didn’t turn into a squib overnight,” Neville said, handing the letter back to Minerva. He felt a lump in his throat and almost felt sick. No magic anywhere? He had heard of individuals being unable to use magic because of their emotional state, but had this ever happened before?

“If you’re a squib, we’re all squibs. But we have bigger problems than our own wands, Professor Longbottom. Nothing that uses enchantments is working. The stairs aren’t moving. The candles in the great hall are all on the floor. Portraits are completely still. Worst of all, there are no protections left around Hogwarts.”

Oh, that was not good.

“So, what do we do? Just wait for the Minister?”

Minerva shook her head. “We have to find a way to get the students home until—if—this is resolved. Hogwarts Express is not running, nor would students or their parents be able to get through the barrier from Platform 9 ¾. We should consider ourselves lucky that the stairs are in the right places, save for one that the Ravenclaws will have to jump onto.”

“Minerva,” started tiny Flitwick, peeking his head out from behind Professor Vector. “As the Minister said, nonhuman magic still works… Perhaps we could also employ the house elves for assistance?”

Minerva nodded and gestured approvingly. “Excellent, that’s a possibility. Hogwarts employs quite the legion of elves. If they can apparate the students safely home, it may be the best option we have.”

There was a faint sound of someone walking quickly down the hall before an extremely disheveled Kyle emerged, wand out.

“What—oh, everyone’s here—what on Earth is happening? The portraits are—”

“Not moving, yes. Enchantments, all of them, have stopped. Magic is not working for any human worldwide to the best of our knowledge,” Minerva explained, sounding perhaps annoyed that she was having to explain this again.

The look on Kyle’s face was one of confusion and distrust. She held up her wand and muttered ‘lumos.’

The tip of her wand flickered, in and out, for a couple seconds before maintaining a solid, steady light.

There was a stunned silence as the professors all exchanged looks with one another, then back to Kyle. A few pulled out their wands and made an attempt, hoping that perhaps the event was over and magic had returned. This was apparently not the case, as no other wands were lit but hers.

“Madam Cunningham,” Minerva said softly after she had regained some of her composure. “Were you doing anything… strange overnight?”

Kyle furrowed her brows and thought about it. “No, I don’t think I was. Someone came in for a pepperup, and when they left, I read for about an hour then went to bed. I was asleep until five minutes ago.”

“May I?” Minerva held out her hand, and Kyle handed over her wand. “Is there anything unusual about your wand, maybe?”

“Thirteen-and-a-half inches, cherry, dragon heartstring, unyielding. It’s my second wand; I got it after the war. Nothing strange that I’ve noticed.”

Minerva gave it a flick, but nothing happened. She tried a few more times, trying out basic spells, but no matter the incantation, nothing happened. She handed it back and shook her head. “The Minister will want to talk to you, I’m certain. As far as we have been told, no one can use magic… I can’t understand why you can.”

“It’s… not as strong,” she said, tapping her wand against her leg. “I can feel that there’s been some change, but what it is, I don’t know.”

There was another silence, brief but awkward, before Minerva cleared her throat. “Heads of Houses, if you will please go wake the students and explain what’s going on… Have them come down to the Great Hall—Filch is clearing up the candles now—and bring whatever luggage they can pack quickly. Professor Longbottom, it may be best that you go to Ravenclaw Tower, the jump from the stairs to the landing is a bit long for Filius.”

So, Neville headed up to the tower, having to force the door open. It wasn’t quite as hard as imagined without enchantments, but it still took considerable power to push stone against stone. He woke the students just as the sun began to rise and explained everything he knew to the confused and frightened students. They gathered together in the common room, carrying only the essential items needed to go home, and when all had come forth, one-by-one they made the leap from the platform onto the stairs, then down and into the Great Hall, huddling together and whispering.

The students left all their luggage lining the hallways to save space in the Great Hall, and they gawked up at the ceiling, plain and gray for the first time in hundreds of years. Neville joined the head table just as several soft pops echoed through the room. Kingsley Shacklebolt, Hermione Granger, and two older Unspeakables Neville vaguely knew entered the Great Hall, walking with purpose and urgency. If anything, there was now more tension.

“McGonagall,” Kingsley greeted as he came up to the table. They were both looking very stern and… well, that was kind of typical, honestly. “As much as I hoped this was just a momentary blip, it seems like this is going to be ongoing. I’ve talked to the Muggle Prime Minister, and he is looking to put up military watch over Hogwarts and Hogsmeade if things aren’t quickly sorted. It’s not the best plan, as some of those servicemen will want to ask questions, but...”

“Hopefully it won’t be necessary. Minister, there is something you need to know…” Minerva gestured for Kyle to come over. Still in her long nightgown and stocking feet, she came forward, shuffling a bit and holding her wand to her side. After glancing between Kingsley and Minerva and Hermione, she repeated her feat from earlier, lighting the tip of her wand.

Kingsley’s jaw tightened. “How? Do you have any idea what is going on? Or why none of the rest of us can do anything?” His voice was riddled with panic.

Kyle was beginning to look overwhelmed and just shook her head, her face turning red.

“Kyle, you’re a Muggleborn, aren’t you?” Hermione piped up, looking intently between Kyle and her wand. She received a nod in return. “Nothing unusual in your family lineage? No strange grandparents or circus performing uncles?”

“No. My mother is a housewife, my father is an architectural engineer. We’re close with my father’s family, who are all quite normal, if a little hoity-toity. My mother’s family was small and have all passed away or otherwise don’t speak to one another.”

Hermione tapped her fingers against the shoulder bag she was carrying as she thought. She asked about her wand and what she was doing around midnight when magic stopped working, and Kyle repeated the answers she gave to Minerva. She once again handed over her wand, and Hermione, Kingsley, and the two Unspeakables each took turns examining it and trying to cast spells. Hermione even took her shoes off to try to get as close to Kyle’s example as possible. But, when nothing happened, they handed it back.

“If you can do magic,” Kingsley said, crossing his arms across his broad chest, “there have to be others able to as well. We just have to find them and find out what about you is the same.” He got an approving nod from Hermione.

“Minister, if it’s all the same to you,” Minerva said finally. “I think it’s best we get the students to write home as quickly as possible. As soon as we get a response from each parent, the Elves should be able to get them home.”

Kingsley looked out to the sea of nervous, groggy students and sighed heavily. Neville could see just how exhausted he was. After everything that happened, after getting all of the Ministry in order again and struggling to right all the wrongs, this had to happen?

“Alright, Minerva. Getting the students home is your top priority. If anything—and I mean anything—goes wrong, I need to know as quickly as possible so we can come up with a plan. And, if it’s alright with you, I’d like to leave Beezer, Twilly, and Mrs. Granger in your care. Hogwarts’ library may have a book or old scroll that has answers for us.”

“That’s not a problem for us, Minister. I do, however, have to go and tell the Elves of the plan. I don’t want to blindside them.”

“Oh! I can go, Headmistress!” Hermione said, and Minerva immediately shook her head.

“Mrs. Granger, I know you care deeply about the Elves and their welfare, but… with all due respect, I don’t think your visit would be a very welcome one. I think, perhaps, we should leave this to Professor Sinistra.”

Hermione slunk down into a nearby chair, accepting her words but not happy with it. Professor Sinistra made her leave and came back rather quickly, relaying the message that the Elves were more than happy to assist and would take utmost care in returning the students home.

With the agreement made, Minerva stood and called for attention in the Great Hall. Professors Vector and Flitwick were rounding up parchments and quills, and each student was to write home immediately and instruct their parent or guardian to respond. As soon as a letter was received, they were to take their trunks and be apparated home. Until that time, they were to remain in the Great Hall except to be escorted to the bathrooms.

The Elves, pleased to be of more service than usual, brought up breakfast. It was certainly an ordeal, but it worked out well enough. The tensions were easing but not by much. Theories were being passed around like they were contagious:

_Voldemort is back!_

_It’s a curse from the secret daughter of Bellatrix LeStrange!_

_Bet Goblins are finally tired of being regulated and controlled by the Ministry. Their magic is very powerful, you know._

None were based on anything factual. The only fact to be seen was that no full-blooded human could use magic of any kind, with the very curious exception of Kyle Cunningham. Thankfully, only those present at the Head Table knew of this strange development. Looking at the expression of fear and confusion on Kyle’s face, Neville thought that maybe she hoped it would stay that way. 


	5. The Spell

"Madam Cunningham." After breakfast, Kyle had tried to make herself small, it seemed. But Minerva directed her attention back to the witch sitting next to Neville. "I have a favor to ask of you."

"Yes, Headmistress?" Kyle asked, closing her eyes tight for a minute. Underneath the table, Neville reached for her hand, and she grasped his and squeezed, as if trying to gather strength from him as she turned to look at the headmistress.

"Once the students are home, hopefully by early evening, it would help us and the Minister if the protection around Hogwarts is returned—at the very least, the anti-Muggle charm. Will you try?"

Kyle squeezed Neville's hand again and nodded. "Yeah, I can. I don't know how well it will work though. Like I said, it feels off, but I can't tell how or why."

"That's quite alright. If you can't do it, we will make something work." Minerva gave Kyle a pat on the shoulder and moved to address the students again. The first of the owls were beginning to soar back through the open window.

"You could have said no if you don't feel well about it," Neville whispered after she had let go of him.

"No, it's... Hogwarts needs protections. I have to do what I can. I couldn't help then, so I have to do it now while I have the ability."

"You're putting a lot of pressure on yourself, Kyle."

It was worrying Neville. If magic was gone, truly gone, then there had to be a reason she was still able to do it. With what she said about it not being as strong as it was before, there could be something happening to her, as well. He didn't want that something to turn disastrous.

Keeping a bunch of teens and preteens locked away with no amusement for hours was no fun for anyone involved. There were a lot of attempted house point deductions for bullying. When the professors realized this, they instead began to promise detentions. Once, during lunch, a third year threw a sandwich at a first year, who erupted in tears and had to be taken out of the Great Hall to calm down.

By about four in the afternoon, most of the students had received letters from home and were headed on their way. The remaining students had, for now, decided to join each other at one table. It was the most inter-house communion Neville had seen all year. Professors took turns between watching the students, going to the library to offer assistance to Hermione, Twilly, and Beezer, and tending to their own affairs. Kyle had hidden away in the hospital wing, on the other hand.

Neville knocked on her office door.

"Come in?"

It was questioning and uncertain.

He peeked in to see her sitting cross-legged on top of her desk. "What are you doing?"

"Why am I on my desk? Don't honestly know. It seemed like a good place to sit. Why am I hiding out in my office? Mostly nerves. Something weird is going on, if you haven't heard, and I don't know how to deal with it." She buried her face in her hands and groaned. Neville found it hard to blame her for such a reaction.

"Kind of a big thing to swallow, huh?" he whispered as he came to her desk. After moving a stack of what was immediately recognizable as romance novels, he sat on the corner of her desk with her. "But, we have Unspeakables working on finding an answer, and even Hermione, and I don't know a brighter witch than her. I bet they'll have this sorted out in no time."

Kyle peaked out from the cover of her palms. "What if they don't? What if everyone has to integrate with Muggle society? Even a couple days is going to tank the economy—and, oh! The people at St. Mungo's! I doubt all the spattergroit and venomous tentacula bites and dragon pox are just going to clear up because everyone's effectively non-magical now!"

Neville couldn't deny that the possibility, even remote, was there. Perhaps they would have to join the Muggles. Perhaps he'd have to learn to drive and get used to Muggle money and... There were a lot of maybe's.

"If it happens, so what? Billions of people are Muggles, and they survive. But there's no point in giving up on finding a solution. There's got to be a reason for it. Things don't tend to happen at random."

Kyle unfolded her legs and scooted to the edge of the desk beside Neville. He took her hand in his as if it was second nature. "I don't want anyone else to find out if I can help it. Imagine what they might say? 'Hogwarts Healer Steals Magic From Everyone.' Who knows. Rita Skeeter is still living, so anything is a possibility."

"You have my word, I won't tell anyone." He planted a little kiss on her forehead, and she smiled and leaned into him.

After a brief moment of sitting and enjoying each other's company, she asked, "How many students are still here?"

"Before I came to see you, there were about eight left. I imagine a few more have left since then. McGonagall was talking about going ahead and sending the last students home without the parent's owl." Neville was a bit disappointed as she sat up and hopped down off the desk, withdrawing her hand from his. "But before you go off and try to save Hogwarts, I wanted to know if you could help me out. Can you break into the greenhouses? I locked them last night and, uh, can't unlock them myself."

She nodded, and immediately went to slip on her shoes. "I can do that. Gotta get your plants cared for."

They peeked into the Great Hall before heading out to the grounds, counting four bored students left. Neville let Slughorn know where they would be if someone needed Kyle. But once the castle door shut tight behind them, their fingers laced together and they took the long way around to the greenhouses. When they came to the shore of the Black Lake, Neville stopped.

"I think the first, maybe only, time I ever talked to you in school, you were standing somewhere around here, I asked you-"

"-If I had made friends with the squid. Wow, I... haven't thought about that in years. I wouldn't have even realized it was you if you hadn't mentioned it now." She furrowed her brows as she looked across the glistening lake, the water wine-dark and capturing the bright glints from the sun. "I think there was one other time we talked. My fourth year, do you remember? In the hallway, you wanted to know what my book was about."

The image flooded back to Neville. A tattered old novel, an empty corridor, a girl who said she dreamed of her first kiss and a boy who never thought he'd get his. He had forgotten because it had seemed so ridiculous, like an awkward dream. "Wait, that was you? I... No, you kissed me. You kissed me and then said you were let down!"

"Thought it would be something breathtaking, or I'd immediately fall in love or something." She turned to him, a little half-cocked grin. She looked different—was it was the dimming light? Or the way the cool wind pushed little strands of her hair everywhere? Maybe it was the lake, and the shine of the surface, and how she seemed to glow. He noticed now how soft she looked, all gentle curving lines and delicate colors, younger than her years but much more mature than a shaky fourteen year old.

"What about now?" he whispered, leaning down and claiming her lips again. She reached up, standing on her toes to push back to him, and their hands found each other until they pressed together tightly. Behind her, gurgling in the background, the waves of the black lake drew back farther, then rushed up past them, soaking their shoes. The chill made them pull apart in shock, but they laughed it off and tramped out of the now squelching soil.

"It's definitely better than that... sloppy, toothy crime you subjected me to years ago," she teased as he led her by the hand across the grounds.

"Well, I couldn't even remember it, so you weren't exactly blowing anyone away either. Now, though..." She gently elbowed him in the ribs as they came up to the greenhouses.

"Alright, let me save the mandrakes and that pretty sex plant." She pulled out her wand, and pointed it with a flourish. The door clicked, and she moved onto the next, then the next, until all seven doors stood unlocked.

"Excellent, now I can ignore my problems and drown in fertilizer."

She wrinkled her nose. "Okay, but take a bath before you come trying to kiss me again."

"You'll get used to it if you keep me around enough." He draped an arm across her shoulders. "We were, uh, supposed to talk about stuff today, huh?"

"Yeah, it's best to get that settled," she said, leaning into him. His heart was beating quicker as he tried to keep himself composed. He liked her, and she seemed to like him, but what did that even mean? They'd have to come to a mutual, professional agreement.

"So, what are your thoughts? What do you want to do?"

She looked deep in thought for a minute, staring through the greenhouse glass and focusing on something rather than looking at him. "It's hard to say," she began after a time. "I don't know what's appropriate, considering we work at Hogwarts. But, I enjoy spending time with you, and I very much like it when you kiss me. I'd like to see how things might progress. We could keep it professional when needed, don't you think?" She turned her head to look at him, seeking his input.

"I'm sure there have been professors who have been involved before—this school has been here over a thousand years, tons of stuff had to have happened during that time." He took his arm off her shoulders, feeling a little too... casual, perhaps? "If you want to try—ya'know, being together in whatever capacity—I'm happy to give it a shot."

A little grin crept up on Kyle's face. "Deal. But let's keep it kind of quiet for a while. I'm not too worried about whether people know we fancy each other, but maybe—"

"Maybe discuss things more in private?"

Neville felt the color drain from his face as he spun around to see Minerva. She almost looked amused, the corners of her lips upturned, but she still carried that stern look she always had. Neville opened his mouth to say something, but Minerva held up her hand to stop him.

"I'm not interested in your private lives so long as it doesn't affect the way you do your jobs. You're not teenagers, and I expect you to behave as adults should. Keep it away from the students is all I ask."

Kyle, pale and fiddling with her fingers, nodded. "Yes, ma'am."

"Excellent. Now that everyone is on the same page, all the students have been sent home. Making Hogwarts safe again needs to be our priority."

Neville and Kyle followed Minerva away from the greenhouses and back towards the castle. Most of the professors, along with Hermione, had gathered on the grounds, presumably waiting to see Kyle do some magic as if they were Muggles themselves. Then again, Neville could understand the awe in this case.

"Madam Cunningham, the most important spell you can do at this time is to mask the castle, pitch, and lake. Muggles coming upon Hogwarts could mean the end to the secrecy we have held for centuries. I know that we're putting a lot on your shoulders, and that your magic may also be faltering, but... do your best." She rested her hand on Kyle's shoulder for a moment, before stepping back. Neville and Hermione came to stand with her, watching acceptance wash over Kyle. With a deep breath, she turned away from them, then looked up to the sky.

A hush came over all the Hogwarts staff. Even the Elves had come to peek out of windows and the castle doors, watching from afar as Kyle lifted her wand. Her hand shook and her grip was tight, but she called out the incantation. A bright, silvery beam exploded out of the tip of her wand. Neville could see the perimeter of the barrier coming down, disturbing the air as it surrounded the land from top to bottom. In a quick moment, the light from her wand ceased, and Hogwarts was unplottable again. Kyle's shoulders relaxed, and she turned her head to look at Minerva. The headmistress nodded, both in approval and to let Kyle know to continue and try to put up the defensive spell.

Once again, she raised her wand skyward. Another deep breath, this time a little more comfortable, before a lovely blue light shot towards the sky. The tightness in Neville's chest started to relax with the thought that, at least this would be a victory for her. The professors behind them seemed to feel the same way, with their soft, upbeat chattering.

"Something's wrong. Minvera, this isn't—" Hermione was the first to react as the light from her wand darkened and changed, the color muddling as it turned from the pale blue to an ugly brown, then into a deep, dark black. It seemed to pool above them, a swirling mass blocking the clouds above them.

Neville felt dread set in like swallowing a heavy weight as Kyle stood there, unmoving and with no reaction. As panic set in, he made a dash towards her, and gasped as he came to look at her face. Her eyes had clouded, completely obscuring the brown and leaving nothing but a milky white. Her face was contorted, as if she were in pain, her mouth open in an unheard scream.

He grabbed her wrist and hand, trying to wrench the wand from her grasp, but her entire body had tensed up, and she refused to release her grip. He watched, horrified, as her skin began to pale and the veins beneath became more prominent.

Another set of hands joined his as they tried to almost tear her fingers off of her wand, and then another. Hermione and Minerva were now crowded with Neville around her.

"What is happening?" Neville demanded, and he reached for the wand itself, hoping to pull it out that way, but he immediately withdrew his hand. A fierce burn appeared on his palm and fingers.

"I don't know," Hermione said, and the look of fear on her face was evident. "I don't know why this is happening."

They looked up again to the black form threatening to fill the sky. It covered almost the entirety of the castle now, and there was no telling what it was or what would happen if it continued to spread. Then, an awful retching noise came from Kyle, and she began coughing up profuse amounts of some clear fluid, covering herself, Hermione, and Neville.

"It... it smells like sea water," Hermione choked out as she watched the veritable river flow and sputter out of her mouth. But, there was no time for Neville or Minerva to react as the sounds of cracking wood turned their attention back to her wand.

The wand began to warp, splintering under some sort of pressure, before it seemed to shatter like glass. Slivers of wood went everywhere, and they shielded their eyes from them. But, the spell—or whatever it was—ended there, and Kyle, bleeding from the pieces of wood now embedded in her hand, began to collapse to the ground like a ragdoll. Neville only had enough time to grab her by the upper arm to keep her from hitting her head, and lowered her to the ground as he shouted her name.


	6. The Revelation

Neville pressed his fingers clumsily against Kyle’s neck, desperate to find some sign of life. But it was Hermione who moved into action while Neville felt so defeated and helpless. 

“Straighten her legs out,” Hermione directed, peeling off her jacket and coming to kneel beside Kyle. She repeated Neville’s attempt to locate a heartbeat while Neville unfolded her until she was lying flat on her back. From the look on Hermione’s face, and the way she immediately commanded Neville to move away, she couldn’t find Kyle’s pulse either. She put her hands, one on top of the other, over Kyle’s chest and began pressing down rhythmically. The gruesome cracking and popping filled Neville’s head, and he found himself sinking to the ground, feeling like he was being swallowed by the sound.

Hermione continued her compressions as the professors, elves, and now even Beezer and Twilly watched on, everyone holding their breath. It felt like it went on forever, with no sounds but connective tissues being moved and, at least once, the cracking of bone. Hermione was shaking as she kept up the tiring pace until, finally, Kyle coughed forcefully, the remaining fluids ejecting from her lungs before she was able to breathe again. Her eyes fluttered open for a second, then closed again, lungs rattling and her whole body shivering. But at least she was breathing. 

It seemed that everyone else collectively began breathing again as well, relief washing over them. The black mass that had lingered in the sky began to dissipate, letting more of the moonlight shine through to the Hogwarts’ grounds. 

Neville and Twilly were able to carry Kyle into the castle and the hospital wing. They put her, unconscious and still shivering, her skin cold to the touch, into her bed and tucked her in tight. Minerva and Hermione followed them in soon after, both looking as pale as Kyle herself.

“I think it’s safe to say that that did not go… according to plan.” Neville took a seat at the corner of her bed, breathless and, most of all, terrified.

Minerva shook her head and furrowed her brow as she stared at Kyle, as if waiting for her to do something. “I have never—not once in all my years— seen something like that. Spells can backfire, but not like that.” 

“It’ll have something to do with her magic use, that’s for certain,” said Twilly, picking up a framed picture off of Kyle’s desk as he headed back towards the door. “She said her mother’s a Muggle, right?” He turned it to show Hermione, whose expression was hard to read to say the least.

“Correct. What is it?” Minerva came to look at the photo with him, but she didn’t seem to see the same thing that Twilly did. 

“You mind if I borrow this? I’ll try to return it the second she wakes up.”

“If you think it could help, by all means.”

Twilly whisked out of the room, leaving Neville and Minerva quite confused to say the least. 

“I’ll… I think I would feel best if I kept watch on her, to make sure she’s alright. I imagine you have an owl or five to write?” Neville said, taking another cautionary glance at Kyle.

“That I do.” She sighed heavily and put a hand on Kyle’s forehead. “If she wakes up, or if something happens, come get me. I doubt I’ll have the ability to get back into the headmaster’s office tonight—lucky I wasn’t there last night—so you should be able to find me in the Great Hall.”

As Minerva left, Hermione took a seat in the chair behind Kyle’s desk. “Shot in the dark, here, but… has Kyle ever mentioned anything strange happening to her? Any weird magical occurrences?”

Neville let his head droop a bit. “She’d kill me if I told you…”

“If she asks, I’ll say I twisted your arm for it. What happened?”

“Well… You know, snatchers got her, just before the battle. Tortured her and everything. She said that… That the day of the battle, she drifted off to sleep, and she woke up somewhere else. But she said she hadn’t learned how to apparate yet, so she doesn’t know how.”

Hermione’s brows knitted together in deep thought. “Where?”

“Near her home, I think. On the shore.”

She thought for a moment, then stood up with a urgent look. “Neville, keep a good eye on her. I’m going to go do some reading, and I’ll see if she’s any better in the morning.”

Once Hermione was out of sight and earshot, Neville moved to the floor, kneeling beside the bed and taking Kyle’s hand in his. He willed himself to look past how she was looking—gray, hollow, mouth hanging ajar. It was such a stark contrast to how she had looked not an hour ago by the lake, plump and full of life. “Hey,” he began, squeezing her limp hand. “I’m gonna be here until you wake up. We don’t know what happened, but I think we need to… we need you awake and here to keep figuring things out. Sorry about your wand, by the way. When this is all over, I’ll take you to Ollivander’s myself. We’ll make a whole day out of it. I heard they opened a new ice cream parlor, since Florean… well, we can check it out. Or, if we have to become Muggles like you said, we can do whatever. Anything you want. I just need you to wake up.”

Neville had begun to get progressively more tired as he spoke, until he was laying his head against her mattress and drifting off to the low sound of humming, though he didn’t know where it was coming from. He fell asleep like that, kneeling next to her with her hand in his. He didn’t dream, so to speak, but he could hear sounds. Birds calling and the sounds of the ocean, waves washing on the shore and the lap of water against something solid. He vaguely remembered getting up and climbing into the bed next to Kyle. Cramped but comfortable, he slept through the entire night like that, gently holding onto her and hoping things would be okay.

When he woke, he didn’t immediately recognize where he was. When everything that had happened flooded back to him, he shot up, reaching for Kyle, but she wasn’t next to him. “Kyle?” he shouted in a panic, looking around frantically until he spotted her, sitting at her desk and wrapping her hand.

“Please, keep your voice down,” she whispered, and he could hear how her lungs still rattled as she spoke. “Whatever happened yesterday, I’ve got a splitting headache.”

Neville threw his legs over the edge of the bed. “Do you remember? Do you know what happened?”

“I remember putting up the masking spell. And then it’s all… voices. I could see tons of light, and huge figures in shadow. I felt like I was looking in on some private conversation, because it was like… like they saw me and tried to get rid of me. I felt like I was drowning.” She tied up the wrapping on her hand and flexed it with a wince before turning to look at him. 

Her eyes were blue. Sharp, biting blue.

He gawked at this new feature before snapping back to reality and shaking his head. “Hermione had to get your heart pumping again.”

“That explains why my chest hurts so bad.” She whimpered, holding her unbandaged hand against her rib cage. “That will heal, though. My pride will not.”

“You need to be resting. You died.”

“I’m neither the first nor last to die, Neville.” She stood up, bracing herself on her desk. “Where’s my wand?”

Neville hesitated. “Well, while you were… while whatever was happening was happening, it kind of exploded.” He watched her face fall, and she sighed and slowly came to sit back on her bed next to him. He didn’t know what to say to comfort her.

Luckily, he didn’t have to. There was a knock on the door, immediately followed by Hermione sticking her head in. 

“Oh, good, you’re awake. We have so much to discuss.” She invited herself in, a heavy old book and Kyle’s picture in her arms as she took a seat at the desk. “So, how are you feeling?”

“Hey, thanks for the CPR, but is that my family photo?” Kyle said, abruptly standing and using Neville’s shoulder as a crutch.

“We didn’t do anything to it, just needed to take a look at it.” Hermione set the book down on the desk and handed the photo and frame back to Kyle. “That’s what we need to talk about, anyway. Tell me about your family.”

“What does this have to do—”

“Humor me, Kyle.”

Kyle sighed and pointed at each figure in the photo from left to the right. “My father, Duncan. He’s an architectural engineer from Aberdeen. My older brother, Richard. He’s a professional diver, works with a lot of historical search teams and such. Most of his work keeps him off the coast of South America. Me, of course. And my mother, Actaea. She studied the classics in college but now she’s a housewife. She’s from Skye.”

Neville got a good look at the photo now. Duncan was a tall, dark man with a stern face. Richard was much the same but with softer features and a leaner body. Actaea and Kyle, however, were what drew his attention the most. While Kyle had inherited her father’s dark brown hair, the resemblance between her and her mother was disturbing. They looked nearly identical in face and stature, more like sisters than mother and daughter. 

“Did you ever meet your mother’s parents?” Hermione asked, touching the spine of the book she’d brought as if she were just itching to open it. 

“No, they passed away before my parents even met. Left my mother with a decent inheritance and the house. But I don’t understand why—”

“I promise we’ll get there, just please bear with me.” Hermione huffed, thinking about her next question. “I’m going to make some assumptions about your childhood. Tell me if anything is wrong.”

“Okay?”

“You spent an unusual amount of time in or near the ocean growing up.”

“I guess.”

“Your mother told you a lot of stories about Greek mythology.”

“Yeah, how did—”

“No one was surprised when you started doing magic at a young age.”

“How did you get this information?”

“Last one. You’ve been able to do wandless magic for years, like second nature.”

“What the hell are you getting at, Hermione?” Kyle was becoming visibly irate, jaw tight, fists clenched.

“Can you?”

Kyle, clearly distressed, raised her hand. The door to her room slammed shut, and her tea set flew out of the cabinet and arranged itself on the desk in front of Hermione. “I was always able to. I use a wand because it’s more accurate and I was tired of students and professors thinking I was a freak. Satisfied?” Her breathing was becoming erratic, and Neville could see she was in pain, but he didn’t know how to intervene or if he should at all.

“Very,” Hermione said, a big smirk on her face. She turned her focus to the heavy book on the table, taking great care in opening it and finding the page she wanted. “Here. These are accounts of sailors and explorers from centuries ago. This one is translated by Beezer. Basically, it’s about how a Spanish captain’s ship had capsized during a storm, and the crew who were able to survive until the storm broke were able to swim to a nearby island.

“When they got ashore, there were four beautiful women who helped them recover and promised them a vessel to get back home if the men would… attend to their needs, so to speak. They were sea nymphs, or nereids, and they had intense magical powers. They could breathe underwater, fashion healing potions from the sea, ‘move things with a wave of their hand,’ and perform other spells and rituals. They were, apparently, very adept at healing. When they were done with the sailors, they mended a boat that had crashed into the rocky shore and diverted a current to take them home. He names the nymphs as Ianessa, Panopaea, Doto, and Actaea.”

“So my mom was named after a myth. What of it?” Kyle swallowed hard, but her temper seemed to ease a little.

“I don’t think she was just named after a myth. There are dozens of accounts of sea nymphs in this book alone. It all seemed to stop about two hundred years ago, but the most recent one that I could find was from a fisherman who was fishing near Skye. And that one also mentions Actaea. Kyle, that would explain why you could still do magic, why you were vomiting sea water last night, your wandless magic, and everything that happened during your childhood.”

“Doesn’t explain why my brother is not magical. Or why Hogwarts would take in a Nymph.”

Hermione closed the book again and set it back on the desk. “Both of those are explainable, too. Nymph magic only passes down from mother to daughter. Sons get beyond-ordinary physical abilities. Think Achilles, who was the son of a nereid. I’m willing to bet your brother did a lot of sports or is unusually good at his job.” She raised her eyebrows at Kyle, but Kyle didn’t move to respond. “As for why you got to come to Hogwarts, it was just luck of the draw. We’ve had half-humans here before—the human side is what determines witch or wizard status. Your father is a human Muggle, but your human side is a Muggle-born witch. That’s why you could tell your magic wasn’t as strong as it was before. You’re affected by the loss of magic just the same as we are, but you’ve got nymph magic to back it up. I’d bet that’s why you couldn’t perform the protection spell. It’s probably beyond the limitations of nymphs.”

Kyle stood up, shaking her head and holding gently to her injured ribs. “There has to be another reason. My mother is a Muggle. She would have told me if she was a fucking mythological creature, and I… I’m going to prove that to you.” 

Neville stood abruptly, reaching for her. “Kyle, wait!” But he was too late. She apparated—or more appropriately, she seemed to dissolve very suddenly, leaving behind a pool of water where she was standing. “Hermione, I don’t think suddenly telling someone they aren’t fully human is the most tactful approach.”

“Neville, I wouldn’t have come here if I didn’t think it was likely to be true. If I’m wrong, I’ll apologize. But if I’m right… well, that solves at least one of our mysteries.” Hermione grabbed her book and stood up, looking down at the puddle of water left on the floor. “Look, if you see her before I do, and I was right, let her know that I’m not going to tell anyone about it, not even Kingsley, until she’s ready to say something.”

Neville sighed as Hermione left the room, sinking back down onto the bed. Kyle needed to be resting, not apparating off to talk to her mother and dealing with the possibility that she has ties to Greek mythology. But what was he to do?


	7. Returning Home

Neville was worried the day Kyle left. He was even more worried the next day. By the third day, he was doing all he could not to panic or run off and try to find her. He was thankful that Twilly and Beezer were keeping him pretty well occupied with reading old books to search for any mention of magic disappearing in history, but they’d had no luck so far. He was also making sure to tend to his greenhouses to the best of his ability without magic, remembering to steer clear of dangerous plants. As much as he loved them, he wasn’t willing to risk life or limb to prune something that bit.

That day, after he had given up searching, he had a light lunch in the Great Hall and headed back towards his office. He needed to clear his head and decided to take a nap to try and will the day to go by faster. He promised himself that he would keep searching in the library after he woke up.

He opened the door to his office and dropped the shoulder bag, used to carry his sparse notes. Something unfamiliar caught his eye at his desk. He snapped his head to look, and there sat Kyle, silent as she watched him with her hands folded in her lap.

Neville straightened himself up. Words failed him for a second before he managed to croak out, “You’re back!”

Kyle gave him a crooked little smile and a nod. “Yeah, I’m back. Sorry for disappearing like that. I was… upset.”

Neville wrung his hands as he came to the desk and leaned carefully on the edge of it. “Don’t apologize. That was a lot for Hermione to spring on you.” He felt the lump in his throat, the curiosity knotting deep in his stomach. But he also wanted to give her the opportunity to tell him on her own time what happened after she left. “I only wanted you to be okay. How are you feeling?”

“Still in some pain. Trying not to do too much in the way of stretching or twisting around, but luckily, it’s not too bad, just slows me down a bit. Mom did a good job fixing me up.” She sat up a bit straighter and fiddled with some pieces of parchments on his desk—leftover assignments that there was no point in grading right now. Her following question, whispered into the still air, took Neville by surprise. “Do you judge me?”

“Why? Kyle, why would I judge you? I don’t think you’ve done anything worth judging. Not in a bad judging way, at least.” He furrowed his brow at her and again was unnerved when she turned her face towards him and looked at him with those strange blue eyes. They changed her whole appearance and gave her a wild look so unlike the soft, nurturing look she had before.

“Do you judge me for being… not human?”

Quiet came upon them for a brief moment as the realization seeped into him. Her voice was worming it’s way from his ears down to his toes.

“No. No, of course not. Who you’re born to doesn’t change the person you are.”

“I’m hardly a person, Neville. I’ve gone my whole life thinking I was a freak for doing wandless magic earlier than my peers. But it turns out I’m even more of a freak than I ever expected. Last night I learned how to breathe underwater, how to make others breathe underwater. I can control currents. I can speak to the ocean.”

Neville jerked back to his feet, wanting to defend Kyle from herself. “We grew up with a part-Goblin professor. A ghost professor. A half-giant professor. All of them are still people, and good ones at that. It doesn’t matter where your blood comes from, or how many types of blood you have. Isn’t that what we fought for? What people died for? Personhood is about defining your life for yourself, not letting where you come from choose for you. You’re not a freak, so don’t treat yourself like one.”

She cast her gaze down, looking sullen. “My brother knew. Apparently, they had even tried to tell me when I was a child, but I thought my mother was telling me stories to entertain me. When I got my letter, they figured it was… easier to let me believe I was a witch. I guess I’ve always been stubborn. Hell, Neville, I didn’t even notice my mother doing magic in front of my face.”

“You know now. That’s enough.”

“I guess. I’m a little behind on the learning curve, however.” Kyle reached over and took Neville’s hand. “There’s a ton that I still don’t know. I can’t learn everything in a day. But gods are real, demigods are real, even if myth and time has stretched the truth out. A lot of things are real that we have no knowledge of. My mother doesn’t have all the answers, either, because she left that world a long time ago. But I know she has enough information to get me started on figuring out what happened to human magic. I came back to let you know, and to let Kingsley know. I’m going to leave and try to figure it out so that we can put everything back in order.”

“It’s going to be a few days before you can talk to Kingsley,” Neville said, brushing the back of her hand with his thumb. “He’s out of the country trying to coordinate research efforts with other magical government officials. So just… stick around for a little while. Don’t go running off, please.”

Kyle paused for a second, looking torn on the issues, but finally nodded. “Sure. I’ll wait.”

Neville smiled and leaned down to kiss her softly. “Good. I’m not ready for you to go away again. Let me be a little selfish.” Kyle stood up from the chair to kiss him back, placing one hand on his shoulder and the other against his cheek.

“Be selfish, then, Nev,” she whispered, as his lips slid to her neck, just under her jaw. “Gods, be selfish.” Neville didn’t know what came over him, but he soon had her pulled against him, trying to be gentle with her injuries but dying to be close to her. His fingers brushed down her sides to her waist while he nipped at her collar, making her giggle as she stood on her tiptoes to give him better access. He wanted to suggest they move out of his office, but he couldn’t get the words out before there was a loud knock at the door. They moved apart, her face flushed, and he looked back towards the door.

“Hold that thought,” he said, standing straight again and moving to the door. It was Minerva, looking as stern as always, but he caught the faintest little smile as he flung the door open and her eyes landed on Kyle, somewhat disheveled, coming to the door with him.

“I was coming to check on you. Some of the others were worried about you since everything happened. But I see Madam Cunningham has come back to us. Good to see you, feeling well?”

“Better,” Kyle said. Before Neville could even say anything, Kyle continued, “Since you’re here, it’s best that I go ahead and explain everything. Do you have time for tea?”

Minerva came to sit down despite her expression of confusion and worry. Neville could see the stress on her face. She looked like she hadn’t slept well since the day magic stopped, and she was moving slower than he ever remembered. Kyle began making tea while Neville took his seat behind the desk. Once everyone had their cups and had all adjusted themselves, Kyle recounted everything, starting from when Hermione brought up her theory.

The fifty Nereids, daughters of Nereus, were born in the Aegean Sea. They were gifted with strong magic. They used this magic to help the gods and sailors who found themselves lost, shipwrecked, or in need. But, as worship in ancient Greece began to change, the Nereids were either abandoned and forgotten, or hunted by those who viewed them as demonic rather than godly. Kyle’s mother, who fled and roamed the sea for centuries before settling in Skye, believed that only four of her sisters remained, the rest dead.

Actaea had revealed all of this to Kyle, in much greater detail, and showed her many things the Nereids were capable of. Kyle mentioned that things from childhood made much more sense now, that her mother had been using magic for so long, but it was never explicit. She explained how her mother gave in and let Kyle believe she was just a Muggle-born witch, but that her father and brother had both known for a long time.

“I think, Headmistress, that something my mother knows may help us fix things. I don’t know how yet, but once I let Kingsley know what’s happening, I’m going to find out.”

Minerva set her cup down, much calmer and more collected than most anyone would be upon hearing such a story. “It does explain much of what is happening. Not everything, but I hope that will come in time. I advise you to be careful with who you give this information to. I trust Kingsley won’t reveal anything for as long as he can, but this may not be something you wish to tell anyone at the moment. If you intend on going off and searching on your own, you may encounter problems if people find out.”

Kyle nodded, sipping her tea while she thought. “For now, it’s best to keep this between us, and Hermione is trustworthy as well.”

Minerva stood up, taking a moment to straighten her robes. “Of course we'll keep searching for answers here, and if I get any news, I’ll be sure to pass it along. For now, get some rest, Miss Cunningham. You’ve had a very rough few days, and I imagine you’ll need your strength for whatever you find yourself doing.”

Neville and Kyle saw Minerva out and watched for a moment as she strolled back up to the castle. There was a lot to think about, a lot to prepare for, Neville figured. And he made up his mind while Minerva was advising Kyle. He wasn’t going to let her go out and risk her life alone, magic be damned.


	8. Lovers

  
“You’re not coming with me.”

With the amount of conviction in her voice, Neville almost gave in to the demand. But, before he could surrender, his mouth disagreed.

“You can’t go alone to face Merlin-knows-what in some Greek hero showdown. I don’t have magic to help you, but if something happens, being alone is the worst—”

“Yeah? And what if I die and you’re left stranded in some hellscape? Greek mythology isn’t known for being pleasant, Neville.”

He turned to look at her, the certainty on her face evident as she sat atop a table in the greenhouse. He was going to have to find some method to sway her, but it wasn’t going to be easy.

“No, but if there’s a chance to save you, I will. I’m not exactly new to dangerous situations.”

“You had magic at the battle. You had magic as an auror.”

“Trust me, being an auror, you use a lot less magic than people expect. I can get by.” Neville knew she had a point, but he didn’t want to admit it.

“What if you can’t, Nev? What if something happens to you?”

He struggled to answer for a second. Going with her, doing whatever it was, may be as simple as asking someone to flip the magic switch back on, or it could be dangerous. Angry gods would be more of a challenge than Death Eaters and Voldemort. “Let me choose to take that risk. I’m not trying to be a martyr, Kyle, but it would eat me alive to see you go off on your own and not know where you’ve gone.”

He could practically hear her pout behind him, but her silence meant he was getting somewhere. At least he could count that as a victory. The sound of her feet hitting the ground let him know she had hopped off the table. She was probably up to something. 

“C’mon, Neville,” she whined, snaking her arms around his waist and making him put the canister full of glowing flower petals down. He placed his hands on her wrists, ready to pull her off if she kept trying to convince him not to come. “I’ll be okay. You should stay here and take care of the castle and everyone inside.”

“They aren’t the ones who need protection and care, Kyle,” he pulled her arms loose and turned around, letting her hold him again once he was facing her. “We’re stronger in numbers, even if I have no magic. Let me go, I want to take that risk.”

Kyle took in a deep breath, and paused as if she were mulling it over. Neville very much wanted to kiss away the pout on her lips, but it wasn’t the right moment for that. He could see her start to break, tilting her head and squirming. She still seemed to want to fight him though, but as he wrapped his arms around her, she closed her eyes and leaned her head against his chest.

“I’m so tired of arguing about this already. If you go, do you promise to be very, very careful? And not try to be a hero?”

He smiled, finally.

“Alright, you’ve got yourself a deal. I’ll behave myself. Now, how about some tea?”

Kyle nodded, stepping back to let him pick up his canister with one hand and reach for her hand with the other. She didn’t seem thrilled, but she gave him a little smile to let him know she was alright, if apprehensive, and they headed back inside his office.

On his desk, he made quick work of clearing away books and setting down the flowers, moving the sugar so it was in reach before Kyle lit a fire to boil water over. Before the pot began to steam, Neville retrieved his cups and set them out on either side of his desk.

“Thank you, Nev,” Kyle said, growing tired of the silence.

“For tea?” He asked quizzically, tilting his head.

“No, of course not for tea!” She was losing the fight to keep a straight face, the corner of her lips turning up. “For caring about me. I’m worried about you coming along with me, but it means a lot to me that you would. Not many people would do that.”

“Well, you mean something to me. You, and the whole of the Wizarding World. Maybe I’m still in ‘protector’ mode from being an auror, but I’m not as scared now as I was when I was a boy. I will fight for the things and people I care about.” He could see the water begin to steam, and he turned back to it, monitoring it as she put a tea bag in each of their cups.

“You’re brave,” her voice was quiet, contemplative. “You mean something to me, too. We’ll get through it together.”

He smiled again, not yet turning to her. “That’s what I like to hear. Optimism is a good thing.” He pulled the pot off the fire, turning back to the desk to see her smiling at him, leaning comfortably on the desk. He wanted to keep seeing that smile. He could hardly take his eyes off her as he poured.

With the pot emptied and left to cool, he took his seat opposite her, leaning back to rest his eyes. He felt comfortable, maybe like a calm before a storm. He didn’t have the anxiety he thought he would have. At least, less anxiety than when he thought she was going to be running off alone again.

Neville was beginning to drift off while she spooned sugar into her cup, humming to herself. The scent of tea and the fragrant, fresh-picked flower petals made him feel so relaxed. He was almost completely asleep when he heard a sharp gasp. 

“Oh, no…”

He opened an eye. She appeared troubled.

“What’s wrong?” Neville said before sitting up. Kyle was looking intently at her cup, clasping it in both hands.

“I think—the sugar and the flowers—this is going to be problematic.” She tilted her cup, and he saw them immediately. Stuck to the bottom were three of the glowing flower petals, soaked in tea. “How many does it take to—”

“Just one,” he groaned, embarrassed that he had been so careless by putting the flowers and the sugar so close together.

“I never even looked in; I didn’t notice them.” She cast her eyes down to the floor and bit her lip. “How bad do you think it’s going to be?”

“I have no idea. I’ve never tried to find out, it didn’t seem like something a single man should worry about.”

She pouted for a second, then looked up to him.

“Should I leave?”

The question hung in the air. Should she? He wasn’t interested in having her do anything she wasn’t already interested in. Before Minerva had interrupted them, they were practically all over each other, but that didn’t mean she wanted it now.

“Do you want to stay? I won’t touch you if you don’t want me to, but you need to tell me now before—”

“Nev,” She whispered, and he met her eyes. “Of course I want you to touch me. I need to know what you want me to do.”

Oh. 

“Then stay. I want you to stay,” he tried to be a professional about it, to not let on how thrilled he was that she had vocalized her desire for him. When she nodded, he smiled. “I guess you can find out how powerful it is while we’re here.”

She raised an eyebrow.

“I think you’re getting a kick out of this.”

“Well, it’s kind of funny,” he rubbed the back of his head bashfully. “I guess it’s not so funny to you, huh?”

“Maybe if I weren’t so nervous.”

He let out a little scoff, standing up from his chair and coming around the side of the desk to sit on the corner next to her. “What do you have to be nervous about? I feel like I’m the least intimidating person on Earth, and I think you know that I wouldn’t mind… well...”

There was a little twitch at her lip, a brief smile that she managed to fight off. “‘Wouldn’t mind’? Is that all?”

“Oh, come on. You’re not going to make me admit it, are you?”

Kyle jumped up, gathering her skirts in a hand and turned towards the door. “That’s fine, I can go take care of this on my own if you don’t—”

Before he could think about his reaction, his hands were on her waist, pulling her back against him. She gasped at the sudden movement and pressure against her back. “No, wait.”

“Say it or let me go. I can feel it starting to work.” she pressed her ass against his thighs, and even though he knew she couldn’t help what she was doing, it was well-received. “So hurry.”

“Kyle, you know what I want to do with you.” He tried one last trick to get out of saying it directly, leaning down to bury his head in the crook of her neck, dragging his lips across fabric that barely covered her skin. The sigh she made and the way she loosened against him was a good sign. “You’re feeling good, aren’t you?”

She declined to respond then, instead dragging her fingertips over his hands, still on her waist. She took them in hers and turned in his hold to face him. “Not good enough.”

Neville pressed his forehead to hers, and she let him replace his hands on her waist, a little farther back this time to pull her in closer. “I’d be more than happy to make you feel even better, then.”

He didn’t have to wait for a response this time. As soon as the words left his mouth she pressed her lips against him, her teasing tongue insistently seeking his. She reached up to tangle her fingers into his hair and hold him still while their tongues intertwined. He felt that familiar lightheaded, tingling sensation, loving the way she tasted and the way she felt against him.

When they parted to catch their breath, he took the opportunity to return to those sensitive spots on her neck, kissing through the fabric of her collar. She gasped as he found a spot to bite down on firmly, pulling him even closer against her.

“Wait—wait, Nev,” she whined, and he pulled back reluctantly. He raised his eyebrows in concern, about to ask what was wrong, but her shaky hands came up to unbutton the top of her dress down to just below her breasts.

He couldn’t do much but gawk for the moment, like a schoolboy seeing his first glimpse of a woman. He marveled at the way her carefully hidden scars twisted and turned across her skin, fading or thickening in some spots. The blushing across her body had brightened their color, causing them to stand out even more.

“Is it too much?” She asked quietly, and he realized very suddenly that she had been so nervous about him seeing that.

“No, you’re… mesmerizing.” He found himself whispering as well, taking her hands in his and bringing her closer. He pressed an almost chaste kiss to her lips and moved to continue working on the remaining buttons. Once he reached the furthest near her hips, he helped her remove her arms from the sleeves and let the dress fall to the floor, leaving her in her undergarments and white stockings she wore.

She stepped out of the dress and pushed it aside, reaching out for him. “Neville, please,” she said, and he couldn’t help but give her a lopsided little grin as he brought her back into his arms, kissing her until she practically melted in them. He slid a hand up her side and to her chest, cupping her breast through her thin bra. There was an increasing pressure in his trousers at the sweet sound of a moan as he found a nipple and gently squeezed.

“Fuck—don’t stop,” she whimpered, leaning her head to the side as his lips found her skin again. “Everything feels… so, so good…”

“That’s exactly how I want you to feel, love.” Neville felt the way she shuddered against him, the warmth of her body seeping into him as she wrapped her arms around him. His hands roamed her body, mapping out every curve and bump of her scars, the smoothness of her back, and reveled in how she shivered as he touched her upper thighs.

His hands moved to her back and struggled for a moment on the clasp of her bra before he unhooked them with a pleased grunt. She shrugged out of it as Neville moved to give her a little breathing space, but his hands were quickly back on her, kneading and pinching, listening to her gentle moans to find what she liked. 

Frustrated with the height difference between them, he moved to grab at her ass and lift, twisting around to place her heavily on the desk, knocking a tea cup off that shattered loudly.

“Oh! I’ll fix—” Kyle began, but his mouth over her nipple silenced her. She pressed against him, holding his head to her chest as his hand toyed with the other breast, leaving her a panting mess.

Neville was content to remain there for a time, but Kyle seemed to have other needs. She took his hand away and guided it between her thighs.

He let go of her nipple, looking up at her unfocused, lust-clouded eyes. “More?”

“More. Please.”

He lifted her off the desk, helping her pull off her underwear before setting her back down and parting her thighs, admiring the sweet expression on her face as she leaned back on her elbows and bared all to him.

She tried not to squirm as he first touched her, running a finger up through her already slick lips. Neville found her clit, drawing tight, slow circles around it with his thumb. No doubt she was more sensitive than normal thanks to the aphrodisiac, but regardless, her choked moans were heavenly to hear. He wanted more.

Kyle gasped, thrusting her hips up as he pressed two fingers inside of her, and she rocked back against him as he set a languid pace, seeking her most tender spots as he took his time with her. When he found what he seeked, her whole body began to shudder as he worked her like it was all he knew. A string of curses let him know to keep going, her writhing only adding to how aroused he was.

“Nev, I’m so close,” she warned him, choking back moans. “Don’t stop, please—”

“Come for me, Kyle,” he said, leaning over her body as he continued his motions, kissing her greedily. When she did, she pulled away from him, crying out his name over and over as her hips jerked and her muscles spasmed around his fingers. She was babbling and twitching from the sensitivity as she came down, protesting as he withdrew his fingers.

“Tell me what you want, Kyle,” he whispered, standing between her splayed knees and running his hands over the edges of her stockings. She shivered as his fingers traveled across her inner thighs, her body still flushed and her breathing unsteady.

“Neville, you know what I—”

“I want to hear you say it.” He moved over her again, pressing against her as he kissed her neck. She whimpered and bit her lip as she mulled over all the things she wanted in that moment.

After a time, she seemed unable to take it anymore. “Please, fuck me,” she hissed, pressing her hips into him before he had time to back away.

It was all the invitation he needed. He moved to pull his shirt over his head and discard the rest of his clothing before he moved back to her, pulling her by the hips so she was closer to the edge of the desk.

“You’re sure?” He wanted to give her another out, to decide not to go through with it, but she immediately nodded.

“Neville, I need you. I’m sure.”

He nodded, already pressing against her to feel her heat and adjusting her legs around him. His heart was beating out of control, thumping like mad in anticipation while he moved against her, the head of his cock teasing against her clit and making her jump.

Neville pulled back further, lining up with her entrance. He took a deep breath before he pushed into her, reveling in the way she grasped him inch by slow inch until, finally, he was seated inside of her, his eyes closed as he paused to regain his composure. It was hard to do so while she squirmed against him, needing more stimulation to appease the insistence of the drug in her system.

After he calmed, and she was begging for more, he finally began to move inside of her, slow shallow thrusts as he listened to her gasps and moans. He had forgotten how blissful it was to be buried inside of someone, and his breath was already beginning to catch as he fought the urge to fuck her harder.

Kyle reached out, trying to grasp onto the edge of the desk as she pressed back into each of his thrusts, whimpering out his name like it was the only word she knew. He upped the pace a bit, his hands tight on her hips. She felt so damn good as she squeezed around him, he knew he wouldn’t last much longer.

His hand traveled from her hip back across her belly and down, until his thumb found her clit and began to circle it. Immediately she let out a cry that she tried, and failed, to bite back, and her back arched.

“That’s it, come again for me,” Neville whispered above her choked moans, still working her clit. “I want to feel you come around me.”

She nodded, her eyes shut tight and knuckles white from gripping hard to the desk. “So… So close…”

When he first felt the telltale signs of her coming undone, the spasming of muscles and jerking of hips, he could feel his own orgasm close behind and he sped up again, chasing after that high. Then, he stilled, pressed deep inside of her as he groaned out her name, leaning over her body as he gave the last final twitches time to die down. They were both breathless, shivering, sweaty messes, everything on his desk shoved to the floor and their clothes scattered about. But they both seemed to feel worlds better, all the tension they felt before released in one simple act.

He took a moment to catch his breath then pulled out of her, unconcerned with the way their mixed fluids dripped onto his office floor. “How are you feeling?”

She sat up on her elbows, looking dazed and disheveled. “Better, but… I think this might last a while.”

He couldn’t help but grin. “Well, I have no problems taking care of you as much as you need. But how about something more comfortable?”

Neville didn’t wait for a response, scooping her up and wrapping her legs around his waist to carry her to his bedroom. He was fine with not leaving there for a while. In fact, over the next couple days, they ignored most of everything except for meal times, instead spending their time undressing each other in his office, or hidden in the greenhouses, or even secret places in the castle. It was so nice to forget all their worries.


	9. Time to Leave

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> To anyone who has been reading, or will be reading after this chapter - I have been in a very severe car accident. I was already suffering some depression that was keeping me from writing, but then several months ago I was t-boned by a distracted driver. I am currently bedridden, and have a little more time before I start physical therapy to try to walk again. I am not even able to be in my own home for probably several months to come. I will likely never "fully" recover. The depression, pain, and uncertainty have made it difficult to write or post. I feel it will still be some time before I feel back to my old self and ready to publish more frequently. But I’m going to try to get some things out - I have quite a few chapters written but unedited.
> 
> I hope you all can continue to hang around and give me a read when I am able to post. And please, drive safe. Don’t text and drive, don’t drink and drive, don’t drive while under the influence of drugs.

When the owl came, early in the morning, Minerva visited the hospital wing first. Kyle was nowhere to be seen, so she stopped at Neville’s office. He answered the door, hastily dressed, but played dumb and said he hadn’t seen Kyle that morning. Minerva raised an eyebrow but chose not to doubt him for her own sanity and told him to pass along the message when he saw her next.

Once the door was closed and latched, he went back to his bedroom, once again melting at the sight of Kyle’s sweet form draped over his bed, still flushed from their early morning affair.

“Important news?” she purred, stretching and sitting up.

“Kingsley’s going to be back tomorrow morning. Things are getting dire all over the world, but no one has any information yet to explain what’s going on. They’re going to start informing Muggle governments about everything. Which means everyone worldwide is going to know about the Wizarding World soon.” He sighed and leaned against the door frame. “We’re going to have to do something to postpone that, keep things secret for a little bit longer. There’s not enough Forgetfulness Potion in the world to erase 7 billion memories.”

Kyle nodded, swinging her legs over the side of the bed and getting up. “In that case, you need to go find Minerva again. If you are certain you want to come with me, we need to get to my home soon. Gather some clothes, as Muggle as you can get, and whatever things you absolutely must have. Pack light, though.” 

Kyle stood on her toes to give him a quick kiss on the cheek, then threw on her dress and shoes and headed out the door. Neville could feel a headache coming on.

* * *

“Are you certain you’ve thought this through, Longbottom?” Minerva gave him her tight-lipped, concerned look when he explained their plan to her.

“I can’t let her go alone. She’ll be safer with someone with her. And I don’t want to be sitting here wondering what's happening the entire time she’s gone.” He couldn't meet Minerva's eyes, knowing that she disapproved of these world-saving shenanigans he and his classmates had been getting into for the past two decades. 

She watched him for a moment before she sighed, giving him a pat on the shoulder. “I almost miss the timid boy you used to be. I’m not happy about you going on this suicide mission, but I won’t stop you. I’ll send an owl to Pomona, see if she can come care for the greenhouses while you’re gone. But I want both of you back here in one piece. If it comes down to it, I’d rather have you two alive than to have magic back.”

Neville decided that was enough of a blessing when it came from Minerva. He gave her an apologetic smile and nod, then thanked her before heading to the hospital wing. Inside, Kyle was packing a couple potions into a bag, looking determined but solemn. 

“Hey,” he said, snapping her out of her thoughts to look up at him. 

“Hey. Are you ready to go?”

He gave his bag a couple of pats. “Well, I’ve got everything I expect I’ll need. But I don’t exactly know where we’re going, so it’s hard to figure out.” 

She gave a little twitch of her fingers, and all the open cabinets in the room creaked closed. “I have a plan for anything we need. I hope it pans out, but we’ll get by if not.” She tied up the bag and threw it over her shoulder, coming around to stand with Neville. “Oh, a forewarning… My mother can be a little over the top sometimes. My dad is easy to get along with, though. Ready?” 

Neville took a deep breath, asking himself if he was certain this was what he wanted, and nodded before he could answer himself. “Let’s go.”

Kyle reached out and took his hand, and they apparated. Or, rather, some oceanic bastardization of apparation. He felt like his whole body had melted and he was being washed down a drain. It was a very ‘wet’ sensation, but not the least pleasant thing he had ever experienced. Just as he felt he was getting dizzy and sick from the twists and turns through this metaphorical drain, it all stopped. His body solidified again, now on a craggy shore and standing in a gentle rain. 

He had to get his bearings, turning around as his eyes swam for a moment. When his vision focused again. He could see the little cottage nearby, surrounded on two sides by a rocky garden barren of any plants this time of year. There was a veranda, cluttered with antique decor and knick-knacks, an upsetting number of tinkling wind chimes, and a huge old, graying dog laying unbothered by the back door.

Kyle had already taken off towards the house, stepping carefully on the rocks. He followed much less gracefully. Up the stairs and under the shelter of the veranda, she gave him one last warning look, then opened the door enough to poke her head in. 

“Mama?” she called out, and there was a crash from inside. “Don’t break anything on my account!”

“Come in, my darling!” 

Kyle threw the door open and they entered. The house was just as cluttered as the veranda was, packed with plush furniture, large clocks and small statues, and tons of small figures from all over the world. In what little space there was between the furniture, overlapping paintings covered the walls.

Actaea, nearly identical to Kyle herself, emerged from another room, her hands coated in some sticky white paste. Her blonde hair was an absolute mess, but her eyes were a startling blue like Kyle’s. 

“Oh, you brought… I’m Kyle’s…. Oh, you know that!” she said breathlessly to Neville, extending her hand then retracting it when she remembered that they were covered in... whatever that was. “And you are?”

“Ah, I’m Neville. I also work at Hogwa—”

“Neville! Yes! My daughter finds you very handsome!”

“Wow.”

“Mama!”

Actaea grinned and wriggled her hands in the air. The white paste dissolved, and she once again extended her hand to Neville, which he took and shook. “Things are kind of a mess—they always are—but come join Duncan and me in the kitchen. We just sat down to have a late breakfast.”

Actaea led them from the living room, through a very awkwardly placed bedroom, and into the kitchen where the floor sloped towards the back. Kyle’s father—much larger in person—was reading the paper with a look of disgust on his face. Kyle approached him and gave him a kiss on his hairy cheek. 

“Good to see you, lovebug,” he grunted, reaching up to give her a pat on the head. 

“Papa, this is Neville,” she said softly, gesturing towards him as he stood in the doorway, feeling very out of place.

Duncan gave Neville a long look, then smiled a great, beaming smile at him. “Hi, Neville. Tea? Juice? We’re having eggs and toast with jam this morning.”

Neville came forward, sitting uncomfortably across from Duncan in the wobbly chair. “Oh, tea, please. It’s nice to meet you both.” He looked up to Actaea, standing at the sink and prodding at some… large, sticky, white blob in the sink. He chose to not ask, thinking ignorance was bliss. Kyle seemed to immediately fall into place, cracking eggs into a pan on the stove. 

“So,” Duncan boomed, sniffling as he folded the paper up and tossed it on a nearby shelf. “What brings you two here this morning?”

“I need to ask Mama about some things. We’re trying to find out what’s going on with human magic, and we can’t find any answers anywhere. I figured she would—”

“That depends on what exactly the question is,” Actaea said, and when Neville looked back to her, the mystery blob was gone. “Like I told you, my time with the gods has ended; I have severed the lines to my own heritage.”

“Let’s get through breakfast first before she has to deal with your riddles, ‘Taea.” Duncan called out, his back still turned to the women. He looked up to Neville again. “My wife, lovely as she is, needs to come with a translation book sometimes. Don’t be too offended if she says something batshit.”

Actaea flicked a stray nut at the back of his head.

Of course, Neville had to spend breakfast entertaining Duncan and Actaea’s questions, but he got to know them quite well—including the level of batshit Actaea was dishing out. She bounced between terrifying and sweet, rattling the table as she slammed her hands down to emphasize her words. Duncan, on the other hand, was joyful and loud. He was still high energy but much less intimidating than his tiny wife.

When breakfast finished, Kyle waved all the dishes to the sink, but no one spoke. There was an air of apprehension that Neville didn’t quite understand. Eventually, Actaea sighed and leaned onto the table.

“I know you wouldn’t be coming to ask for my thoughts if this wasn’t important to you.”

Kyle watched her mother for a moment, then nodded. “I’m part of this community, now. They’re hurting and it’s looking more and more likely that they’ll have to give up everything they’ve ever known if something isn’t done.”

“Do you think that is your responsibility?” 

Kyle’s jaw clenched, then relaxed. “No. But it’s my choice.”

Actaea’s sad expression aged her somehow as she continued to look lovingly at her child. “I can only do so much. What would you like to know?”

Kyle closed her eyes, and underneath the table, her fingertips found his hand and took it, intertwining their fingers. “I guess we’re going to have to go way back for this one. What is magic?”

At this, Duncan stood up, excusing himself and mentioning that this wasn’t his conversation. He kissed his wife on the top of her head and left, the back door creaking open then falling shut with a bang. Once out of the house, Actaea began to tell a story.

_At the beginning of time, the first primordial beings were born of Chaos. When they came together to create the earth, they began to fight and wage war against each other. To prevent the earth, their prized creation, from being destroyed in their battles, they made an agreement. The gods split apart into families, taking lands for their own to govern. They would meet together in a grand, celestial meeting every so often to make decisions, promising to keep the peace. And so, they began to populate the earth with animals, vegetation, and humans, who were made in their image._

_Eventually, every family present at the hall agreed that any creature with a soul would be given the gift of magic. There was a god chosen for every type of creature to control their flow of magic. Heka, the first of the Egyptian gods, was given reign over humans. But humans proved to be the most destructive, hateful creatures, using magic to cause pain and strife, war and death._

_Some gods wanted to destroy the humans. Some wanted only to take magic from humans. There was much arguing and fighting. Eventually, they turned to Chaos, and told her to make the choice for them. She came to the decision to change the souls of humans, so that they were no longer compatible with Heka’s power. However, she chose certain families to retain the old souls; those few were given the responsibility to protect all the rest of the Earth and every creature on it to the best of their ability. To maintain a balance, some babies born to nonmagical families were given old souls, and some babies born to magical families had their magic stripped._

Neville, still clasping hands under the table with Kyle, listened as Actaea retold them this abridged tale that was missing from _A History of Magic_. It was a lot to take in, answering some questions and leaving more. It was almost turning Neville’s stomach. 

“So, how can magic be taken away from us?” Kyle asked, her eyes wide.

Actaea took a drink of her now tepid tea and shrugged. “That I don’t know. It’s the work of a god, nothing else is powerful enough.” 

Kyle furrowed her brow as she thought hard about everything, mumbling as she repeated things to herself. “If they can change our souls, maybe? Give everyone the ‘new’ souls that can’t learn magic. Or maybe—”

“Maybe they took the god, instead,” Neville mused aloud, mimicking Kyle’s expression. 

“Either could be a possibility. I can’t answer that.”

Kyle snapped her eyes up to her mother. “Who can?”

Her mother’s lips tightened, and she crossed her arms over her chest. It took her longer to answer this question, as if she really didn’t want to. “My sister, maybe. Amphitrite.”

“Amphitrite? Poseidon’s wife?” Kyle questioned. “As in, lives-in-Atlantis-Amphitrite?”

“That’s the bitch.”


	10. A Watery Practice

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Everything still hurts, but I have learned to walk again. Recovery is slow but steady.

“So, how exactly are we supposed to get to Atlantis, of all places?” Neville asked, just a little baffled. 

Actaea stood, turning to the shelf by the door. She rifled through old newspapers, worn out books, and recipe cards until she found an old pocket map. She brought it to the table, unfolded it between Kyle and Neville, and pointed to an area left of Portugal. “It’s actually not terribly hard to get to. Most cruise lines leaving from any port in England headed towards the Carribean Sea or any part of the Eastern United States will get you close enough. Trust me, I’ve considered going to make peace with my sister for a long time, and why not do it on a cruise ship?”

He raised an eyebrow. “Then what?”

“Jump off,” Kyle said, studying the map. “Will I be able to sense it or something?”

“A place like Atlantis? Yes. Anyone with nymph’s or god’s blood will be able to find it.” Actaea folded the map back up and replaced it before sitting down with a sigh. “I don’t like this. I don’t want you getting involved in the affairs of the gods.”

Kyle turned to Neville for a moment, as if she were looking for strength. He squeezed her hand. “I’d prefer none of this happened. But I am not going to sit back and watch this world crumble apart if there’s even a slight chance I can change it.” 

Mother and daughter searched each other’s eyes for a moment, perhaps having some sort of secret exchange Neville couldn’t hear. But Actaea seemed to deflate. “Then do as you wish. Don’t let them take advantage of you. Interact with Olympians as little as possible and other gods even less. Remind them that you are awake if they cause any trouble. Come home safe.”

“I’ll make it quick.” Kyle moved around the table and gave her mother a kiss on the cheek. “C’mon, Nev. I’ll show you my room. Well, the guest room, now.”

Neville stood and took her hand, letting her lead him back to the living room and then to a side hall. The room was on the left, and inside was uncluttered as far as the rest of the house went. A comfy looking bed, topped with no less than four colorful blankets; a desk mostly occupied by books and what Neville guessed was a computer; two small but squashy chairs; and a stand with a television, which he was happy that he actually knew. He had spent extraordinarily little time in Muggle spaces, but no time like the present, when they were faced with the possibility of permanent magic-removal.

She shut the door behind them and clambered up onto the bed. “I know you have questions.”

“Only a million,” he said, hesitating for a bit before coming to sit down with her. She waited for him to ask, so he tried to pick a starting place. “Greek gods are not the only gods?”

Her answer was quick. “No. As I have been told, all mythology across the world has a basis in truth. Well, almost all—there are a few fakes. How close to the truth the myths are varies.”

“So, Norse? Mayan? African?”

“All real in some way or another.”

Neville wasn’t entirely sure what his reaction was supposed to be to all of this, but he tried to accept it gracefully, taking a long, deep breath before his next question. “What did she mean when she said you were ‘awake’?”

Kyle adjusted her position so she was turned to face him with her legs crossed. “Do my blue eyes freak you out?”

“I—No, I mean—It’s strange but…”

“Well, they freaked me out. But they’re symbols. Full-blood Nereids always have blue eyes. Nereid hybrids get them when they are ‘awakened.’ Basically, I had some Nereid powers I could use forever. Most hybrids get their full powers from practicing Nereid magic and proving to the gods that they’re ready. I never practiced Nereid magic much, because I was relying on human magic and just supplementing it, so that’s why I felt like my magic was weaker that day. When I tried to do the protection spell, I over-extended myself past what I could do with my ‘basic’ magic. That vision I saw? I was looking in on a private conversation between the gods, who were arguing about whether I was ready to be awakened. Their indecision almost killed me, but hey, now I have creepy blue eyes to show for it.” 

Neville took another look at those eyes. Honestly, yes, they had freaked him out that first morning he saw her. “So, you have more power, now?”

She cast her eyes down, looking like she was ashamed. “It’s an old, old magic. Nereids aren’t considered gods themselves, but they are children of gods. That gives them, and me, a more robust magical repertoire than humans. Before you ask, immortality is lost on Nereid-human hybrids.”

She had that pained expression on her face, the same she had a few days ago when she was lamenting being a Nereid at all. So, he took both of her hands in his. “I don’t know exactly how you’re feeling, but you’re still the same person you were before any of this happened. You’re still Kyle.” 

“Neville, I don’t want to be different. I just want to be an average, everyday, normal witch. I wish I was still Just-Kyle, but now I’m Kyle-The-Nereid.” 

“Who has to know?” Neville asked, giving her fingers a squeeze. “You don’t have to tell anyone who doesn’t need to know. If we end up solving everything, you can go back to being Just-Kyle. If we can’t, then everyone ends up being a Muggle anyway, so it won’t matter. Your mother has played the role of Muggle successfully for decades at least, so you can be whatever you want.”

She sat up on her knees and moved closer to him, eventually just sitting directly in his lap and laying her head on his shoulder. “I’m not handling this well.”

“I’m not expecting you to handle it well. I’m just asking that you don’t say hurtful things to yourself.” He wrapped his arms around her and planted a soft kiss on her forehead, feeling so warm as she snuggled in more to him. “You’re too strong to make yourself out to be weak.” 

* * *

Seated out on the veranda, Neville watched Kyle and her mother disappear under the waves. He watched as those waves themselves grew and shrank, changed, flowed backwards, stood still, and then returned to normal. For the first fifteen minutes, his heart was pounding. Watching someone go underwater and then not emerge was absolutely terrifying, even if he knew logically that she could breathe. When she had come above the water, seated precariously on a big, watery mound as her mother instructed her, he was able to convince himself she was fine. That made the next few hours go by more comfortably.

The door opened and slammed shut, and Duncan, pipe in hand, came to sit in the chair next to Neville. 

“You get used to it,” he said, gesturing with his free hand out to the vast ocean. “You get used to a lot of things you never thought you could get used to.”

Neville leaned back in the chair, glancing over at Duncan as he lit his pipe and puffed away happily. “How did you find out Actaea was a Nereid?”

He blew out a big puff of smoke and laughed. “When I proposed to her, she told me she had a secret to tell me before she could accept. She said she didn’t want a marriage based on lies. Would have found out anyway. I’m getting old and she never will.”

Neville wondered how hard that must be, for both of them. Duncan would age and age, just like any human, and Actaea would have to watch him die. Her children, too. “I’m sorry.”

“Don’t be, boy. I accepted this life a long time ago, and I wouldn’t trade it for anything. My wife and children are everything to me, and I would do it again if you sent me back in time. The only thing I would change is to treasure them more in the early years.” Seemingly reading his mind, he continued, “As for her… We discussed it before having children. When you’ve been alive for millennia, death stops being so scary. I won’t be the first husband of hers to die, and they won’t be her first children to die. She came to terms with mortals a long time ago.”

“Still, it can’t be easy.”

“It’s not. She remembers them all, and she mourns for them in her own way.” He took another long puff on his pipe, watching as his wife tried to show Kyle how to stand up on the water’s surface. “She never forgets a birthday.”

Kyle struggled, getting halfway up onto her feet and then falling back into the water. A dozen times at least she failed to get fully up on her feet, and Neville imagined that frustrated look she probably had by then. But, finally, she stood up, shaking here, a foot slipping there, until she was completely upright, arms outstretched. She walked, unsteady at first, and then more confidently. There was something awesome in that sight, something about her power just clinging to his bones. He had barely noticed that she had walked completely back to the shore, soaking wet and shivering, but proud.

He stood up, wanting to go down to meet her, but Duncan reached over and grabbed his wrist. 

“Boy, I need you to understand something.” He looked sternly at Neville, who swallowed back his intimidation. “You and her, together, is not an accident. All nymphs are selective, but none as much as the Nereids. She chose you, and I trust her. Don’t betray that.”

Neville nodded and gave a mumbled, “yessir,” before Duncan released his arm and he was free to join Kyle. Out on the rocky shore, Actaea was instructing Kyle. 

“Will the water to go back where it belongs. The water will give you your desires, as long as you can tell it what you need.” Actaea demonstrated, holding her hands so they were just hovering over her chest, and in seconds her clothing, skin, and hair had dried. Kyle watched, nodded, and emulated her mother. It took quite a while longer, but the water began to disappear in patches until she was dry and comfy again. 

She gave a little wiggle of pride at her accomplishment and turned to Neville. “It’s like going to Hogwarts all over again.”

“How do you mean?” he asked, taking her hand when she held it out for him. 

“Maybe it’s different when you already know about magic, but when you’re a Muggle-born, your first year at Hogwarts is… well, magic. It’s so exciting and new and it opens up a whole world you knew nothing about.” They started back towards the house, Actaea already up by her husband and waiting for them to come inside. 

“I can see that,” he said, noticing once again how breathtaking she looked with her hair unbound and—

He connected the dots.

“It’s the water,” he said, suddenly stopping and just gawking at her.

“What are you talking about, Nev?”

He shook his head. “I just realized that every time you’re in or near the water, it’s like you start to glow. You’re always beautiful, but the water… When I look at you, I get this floaty feeling and I want to kiss you more than usual. You thrive near the water.”

Kyle fought back a smile, looking up at him with expert doe eyes. “If you wanna kiss me, you’re welcome to.”

He discreetly looked up at her parents, both very much within sight. “Your parents are watching.”

“Not only are my parents well acquainted with the concept of kissing, you’re also thirty. So kiss me.”

He grinned at her jab and, still a little awkward about being directly in front of Actaea and Duncan, leaned down to press his lips into hers, that floaty feeling only amplifying.

Later that night, he got a taste of the Muggle world. She took him out to see a movie, having to debrief him on etiquette and customs. He whispered pop culture questions in her ear several times, but he could get by enough that he enjoyed himself more than he expected. They took a long walk afterwards, both of them smelling like popcorn, and she showed him a lot about the world she grew up in. It was pleasant, even romantic, but they were only putting off the inevitability of tomorrow. 


	11. A Trip to the Ministry

She was awake at dawn but didn’t get out of bed, rather she cuddled closer to him, a heavy sigh on her lips as she turned her face towards the clock. He was still half asleep, tucked under the blankets with his arms around her. He wondered briefly how long it would take to find out what had happened to magic, or how long it would take for them to give up. Everything was so uncertain.

When the time came, she sat up stiffly, and he followed behind her. They already had everything they needed packed up, so it would be a quick departure. There was just one change she needed to make.

“Kyle, I don’t think this is going to work. Your brother is a _bit_ bigger than I am,” Neville pulled on the excess fabric of the suit to show her, but she barely glanced at him. She snapped her fingers, and— _zip!_ —it shrank. It wasn’t a perfect fit, but it was enough that he could at least move without tripping. “What’s with the suit anyway?”

She had dressed in a similar outfit, hair pulled back in a bun. “We may need to meet someone today. It’s up to what Kingsley can do, but we… well, being prepared is the best thing we can do. Otherwise, we may be delayed.”

Neville wasn’t exactly thrilled about the vagueness level in the room, but she was in charge, so he kept it to himself and followed her lead. Actaea and Duncan were already up, still in their pajamas as they made their morning tea. Kyle said her goodbyes, and it was more somber than he wanted to stomach. They all knew the dangers, but they seemed willing to accept the risks. Actaea just had one last piece of advice as she embraced her daughter. 

“Come back home. I left that world for a reason, so be careful.”

“I’ll be back soon, Mama. Don’t worry.”

Neville took her hand, giving Duncan and Actaea a friendly wave, and everything faded into that melty, liquid feeling again as she transported them… somewhere.

When the world came back into order, they were in a narrow alleyway, the cold rain pouring down on them. Recklessly, neither had brought an umbrella, so they kept their heads down as she guided them into the foot traffic and down the street.

“I would have just brought us directly into the Ministry, but without enchantments, the building is no longer quite what it’s supposed to be,” she explained, trying to be as quiet as she could with all the buzz around them. It worked out well, though, as they were close. An old, abandoned building with boarded up windows was so inconspicuous that Neville almost didn’t recognize it himself. The giveaway was the disheveled “police officer” out front, miserably holding his own umbrella as he guarded the doors. They approached, and he straightened up.

“Hold it,” he said, trying and failing to look intimidating. “Just where do you think you’re going?”

“Your bag, Neville,” Kyle said, holding out her hand. He gave it to her, and she pulled it open and rooted around until she found his wand. She showed it discreetly to the officer, but he just crossed his arms.

“I can’t just let anyone with a wand stroll into the Mini—this building. Official business only.”

Kyle shrugged, handing Neville his bag and wand back. “Okay. Official business only.” She held out her hand, and the rain above her stopped, droplets hanging in the air like tiny suspended crystals. “I’m pretty sure any business I have to conduct at this minute is official.”

The fake officer let his jaw hang open slightly, just for a moment before snapping it shut and stepping sheepishly out of the entryway. “Official business, then. Carry on.”

Kyle gave him a thankful little nod before they hurried into the relatively warm, dry interior of…

Wait, _this_ was the Ministry of Magic?

It was truly back to being an abandoned building. Cold, tile pathways flanked by raggedy, molded carpets, the entire building filled with make-shift desks. Parts of the walls were destroyed, showing the wiring and leaky plumbing, and the dingy yellow overhead lights buzzed and made Neville feel sick almost immediately. It was absolutely crammed in here, with just the narrowest of space to move about between desks and solemn Ministry employees. But even though it felt like there were loads of people in there, there must have only been a fraction of the total number of officials in the whole of the Ministry. Of course, there wasn’t much use for anyone in the Improper Use of Magic office to come to work when there was no magic to improperly use.

Neville was vaguely aware that Kyle had grabbed the arm of some flustered-looking official in a dusty suit and whispered something. He shook his head, indignation on his aged features, until Kyle held a hand between their two bodies and showed him something that seemed to horrify him. Once his wide-eyed disbelief had calmed down, he nodded, and Kyle let him go.

“What was that about?” Neville asked her when she returned to his side. 

“I’m sure you can understand that no one is supposed to be disturbing Kingsley at the moment while he’s dealing with everything going on, so I am going to have to do parlor tricks to get in. I feel like a fucking court jester,” Kyle replied, pulling her sleeves down. She pointed over at the man who she had just grabbed, talking to a large bald man who was sitting outside the door to what looked like it may have once been a toilet. “See? One step closer.”

Once the bald man and Kyle had made eye contact, she started off in his direction, dodging desks and employees and scattering Elves. Neville tried to keep up, but she was far too quick and he couldn’t catch her. But he was still close enough to catch the conversation that ensued.

“Kingsley isn’t seeing anyone at the moment.”

“I assure you, he will want to speak to me,” Kyle said, as gently as she was capable.

“For what purpose?” The bald man puffed up as if she were challenging him, which Neville hoped he didn’t mean.

Kyle nodded her head towards the door. “Ask him. Tell him Kyle Cunningham is here with information.”

They stared at each other—this big, towering man glowering down at tiny Kyle—but before he turned a solid shade of purple, he turned sharply and entered the office. There was a muffled, short conversation, followed by the shouted word, “ _NOW_ ,” and the bald man backed out through the door again, holding it open and gesturing for Kyle and Neville to enter.

Inside, it clearly was an old toilet. The stalls, sinks, and toilets had been removed, the holes in the floor and walls hastily covered with mismatched rugs and oddly placed landscape photos that looked like they might have been pulled out of a rubbish bin. Kingsley, who had been sitting behind his desk, hurriedly stood and came around to greet the pair. 

“Minerva wrote—gave me the short version of everything you told her. I’m a little baffled, I have to say,” he said, nearly whispering as he took their hands for a quick shake out of formality. There was an old, corded phone on his desk that gave a short ring before he grabbed it, took it off the hook, and hung it back up. “Nymphs and Greek gods? What the hell is happening?”

Kyle looked at Neville, raising her eyebrows before turning back to the Minister. “To make matters as short as possible, magic is really complicated. When we use magic, we are borrowing the power of an ancient god. It seems there’s another god—I don’t know who, where or why yet—who has somehow blocked humans from doing magic. They left nonhumans alone, so this is specifically targeted at humans from what we can tell. What I need to do is jump into the Atlantic ocean and find Atlantis because that’s apparently where my aunt lives, and she probably knows a lot more about this than I do.”

Kingsley gave her a contemplative frown, absorbing what she was saying. “Atlantis?”

“Yes, sunken kingdom ruled by Poseidon. Literal Atlantis.”

He sighed and leaned against the wobbly desk. “You know, I really thought we had all of this worked out. I thought our histories were more or less complete.”

“We all did. And, if it’s acceptable to you, I would like to keep everyone convinced that we do know it all. I don’t think that bringing all of this to everyone’s attention is the best idea,” Kyle said, taking a look around the office for the first time. 

Kingsley clasped his hands together in front of his body. “So, what do I need to do for you? How do I help you?”

Kyle hesitated, perhaps not wanting to ask for what she needed. “I don’t know if you, yourself, can get me what I need. But it’s possible that you can get me in touch with the person who can.”

Kingsley raised a brow, waiting for her to continue, even though she was struggling to get the words out. 

“We need passports and funding. I don’t have the power to just apparate anywhere I want, or this would be a lot easier.”

Kingsley nodded, then turned to look at the phone on his desk. “I think I’ve got an idea of how to get them, but I’ll need you to step outside so I can make a phone call.”

Kyle and Neville went back outside, ignoring the glaring look of the bald man, and stood at the other side of the door next to an overflowing trash can. 

“Wait, so, who is he calling?” Neville asked, feeling like he wasn’t following the conversation. 

Kyle didn’t meet his gaze. “Not someone I particularly care to meet if I’m honest.”

Neville decided now was not the time to ask more questions, so he just stood silently, hands behind his back. He watched the Ministry officials work at their desks, some buried in books, some working on large stacks of paper, some awkwardly typing at computers and looking absolutely confused. There wasn’t much talking between them all, but they worked diligently, occasionally moving about. There were whispers in conversations he could hear—the history of magic in Syria, the different blood compositions of creatures able to use magic. He wanted to scream the truth—that magic wasn’t lost; it was stolen. But he didn’t have all the answers yet, and he didn’t want to out Kyle like that. So he waited.

After what felt like an hour, Kingsley opened the door, an umbrella in his hand. He looked around for a second before locating Neville and Kyle and giving them a wave over. 

“Alright, are you two ready to go?”

Neville furrowed his brow. “Go where?”

Kingsley looked off towards the door of the building. “10 Downing Street.”


	12. Threats Against The Government

Neville hadn’t actually realized just how close to the Prime Minister’s residence that the Ministry of Magic was. It was truly just a stone’s throw away but felt like it was in a whole different world. Downing street itself, blocked to traffic by police presence and a gate running across the road, was somehow more insulated from London’s noise than he expected. But of course, these barriers were no use in slowing down Kingsley. On their way in, the officers stopped him, but Kingsley pulled out some type of identification or badge that Neville couldn’t see from behind him, and the police hesitantly let them through. 

They were expected. The iconic black door swung open as soon as Kingsley stepped onto the doorstep, and they entered into the Prime Minister's residence. The building was kind of hard to describe. It was a mix of underwhelming and overwhelming, with time having aged some of its once opulent features. Unmoving portraits hung on the walls, and there were none of the features you might find in a magical home or office. To Neville, it felt very stiff and dead, regardless of marble floors or detailed wall panels. The Prime Minister had been waiting on them, the floor cleared of anyone but himself. 

Neville felt like he was watching himself from a distance.

“Prime Minister, this is Neville Longbottom and Kyle Cunningham,” Kingsley introduced them, though there was a clear lack of respect coming from the PM. “They both have the biggest role in solving our mystery, and—”

“I don’t exactly see why any of this is my problem, Shacklebolt. For all I care, you can join in on muggle life and straighten yourselves out.” He spoke in a hushed, hurried tone, his chest puffed out and hands on his hips. Neville, used to Kingsley’s mannerisms, could tell that beneath the practiced smile, he was already becoming angered. However, he wasn’t the only one.

“ _Your Excellency_ ,” Kyle piped up, her voice level but her fingers curling in obvious agitation. “It’s very much your problem. There are still magic users and magical creatures in this world, and I can guarantee you want to be protected from them. You have lived a cushioned existence for the very fact that you aren’t having to defend from dragons and sentient plants.” 

“Kyle, it’s alri—”

She ignored Kingsley and continued. “There are no cures for the ails of the magical world falling. You will have deaths and panic and a changed world. I’m sure that a man as educated and respected as yourself can see the value in maintaining calm during what is very much a crisis.”

“Listen here, Miss Cunningham,” The PM choked after a stunned silence. “I hardly believe in any of this mumbo-jumbo, and I sincerely doubt that your lot are doing as much as you claim. Sentient plants? Laughable.”

“I’m more than happy to take you to visit one if you wish.”

The thinly veiled threat clouded the air with tension. 

Kyle kept on while the PM bubbled with anger. “We are here to protect your world, and ours. We do, however, need your help if you want protection from what’s out there. Can you put aside your prejudice for now and let us do our duty?”

Neville could see the way she was shaking lightly—was it from anger, or fear? Either way, the PM seemed to cool for the moment. 

“What is it that you need?”

And so Kyle and Kingsley negotiated for the documents Neville and Kyle would need with a lot of huffing and puffing from the PM. But eventually he agreed to their needs and led Neville and Kyle to a cool, dark meeting room that seemed like it hadn’t been used in some time. Kingsley went to accompany the PM to ‘assist’ him, though Neville expected it was just damage control.

“You holding up okay?” Kyle asked Neville after a long time of uncomfortable silence, unbuttoning her jacket. “You’re looking a little out of sorts.”

Neville looked up at her and those knowing blue eyes. “This is all just kind of insane. Doing anything without magic feels weird, but...”

“I can still take you back to Hogwarts. You don’t have to go with me.” She leaned in close to him, her hand on his knee. He knew she would take him back in a second if he wanted, but that wasn’t going to happen.

“No. I haven’t changed my mind. I’m ready to go with you and make sure you’re safe. I’ll be alright,” Neville said, scooping her hand off his knee and holding it between his hands. 

Kyle gave him a solemn, slow nod. “Alright. If you are certain this is what you want to do, then we’ll handle it as it comes.”

After a few hours of being left to do nothing but whisper and theorize, the door to the office opened, both ministers coming in together. Kingsley held up two large envelopes before handing one to each of them. Neville’s had the name Matthew Davies written on it, while Kyle’s said Nichola Davies.

“As far as anyone from any government is concerned,” the Prime Minister hissed, still looking jittery. “You are good, law-abiding citizens, holding respectable jobs in London, who just so happen to have a sizable bank account. I fully expect that nothing we have discussed here will make it out of this building. _And_ I expect you to return with this issue resolved.”

Kyle opened her envelope, pulling out a passport, birth certificate, standard identification card, and a second envelope that contained banking information and a card. “I expect the same of myself. And I expect you,” she turned her gaze up to the shaken Prime Minister, “to do your very best to protect our people and secrets in my absence. It’s in _your_ best interest.”

The tension increased until the PM straightened up, gave an uptight nod, and left them, shutting the door to the office. 

Kingsley shook his head. “I don’t typically recommend threatening the Prime Minister, but I can’t say I blame you. What are you planning to do now?”

“Like I said, we have to get to Atlantis. We’ll have to find a good way to get there, but I think I can work something out.” Kyle stood up, extending her hand to Kingsley. They shook, and then Neville shook Kingsley’s hand as well. 

“I want you two to be safe. And if there’s any way you can get in touch with me, keep me updated. I don’t want the next thing I hear from you be about unidentified bodies held up in some morgue.”

“We’re going to be fine,” Neville reassured, though in the back of his mind he was weary about what may happen to them. Emotions from his time as an auror were already flooding back to him, but he held them back for the time, not wanting to relive the things he’d been through.

“One last thing, Kingsley,” Kyle began just as Kingsley opened his mouth to speak. “It may be awhile before we can return to you with news. I know things are dire right now, but please do your best to keep the people safe and calm. Do whatever you have to, even if you have to tell them what’s going on.”

Kingsley gave a solemn nod to her. “I know how much you want to keep things secret. I will do what I can to prevent telling anyone I don’t have to.”

She let out a long sigh, as if she were a deflating balloon. “Thank you.”

Kingsley’s smile, forced as it may have been, lit up his features in a way Neville missed. “You two do your best but come back whole. Good news means magic is back. Great news means you’re back. But let’s get out of here before the Prime Minister changes his mind.” He gave them both a clap on the shoulder before leading them out and back onto the street, nodding to the guards as they passed.

“Oh, before you go, Neville, I think there’s someone who would like to see you before you go,” Kingsley said just as they were about to part ways. “ _If_ you have the time to head to Godric’s Hollow before you leave.”

Neville looked at Kyle with raised brows. “Harry. What do you think? Have we got the time?”

Kyle hummed for a second, then nodded. “I can get us to Godric’s Hollow. I cared for a lady there for a while, while I was still in training. We have time.”

Neville gave her a big, thankful grin. There had been something missing in the back of his mind about going out on a big mission, and when Kingsley brought it up, he realized that he had been missing the reassurance of his old friends. “Great, thank you both.”

And, with a duck into an alleyway and a clasp of their hands, they were off to visit Harry Potter, the Boy Who Lived.


End file.
